


Still Jack and Daniel Series 2 - Ghosts of the Past VI - Of Old and New Pain

by Annejackdanny



Series: Still Jack and Daniel Series 2 - No Yellow Brick Road/Ghosts of the Past [11]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Kid Fic, M/M, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-12
Updated: 2012-10-12
Packaged: 2017-11-16 03:43:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annejackdanny/pseuds/Annejackdanny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel is trying a little too hard and Flyboy gets to be the hero of the day and Al's mom is hit by a clue bus...</p><p>Jack gets to talk about Charlie and someone shows up with donuts :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still Jack and Daniel Series 2 - Ghosts of the Past VI - Of Old and New Pain

**Ghosts of the Past**

**VI**

**Of old and new Pains**

**I**

“Daniel...” Jack said for the third time, trying to get his attention. Trying to at least get the brat to look at him. But Daniel's eyes were fixed on his mashed potatoes, chicken, and gravy. His untouched dinner seemed to be more fascinating than Jack's feeble attempts to… 

And why was he trying to apologize anyway? It wasn't as if he hadn’t tried. Actually, Jack thought rather sullenly himself; he had more than just tried to talk to the Millers about Al's problems. He had invited them over for dinner yesterday, had fired up the grill and served one of Daniel's very old bottles of red wine from the stock they were keeping in Jack's basement since the downsizing.

The Millers had enjoyed the meal and made their compliments to the host.

It had been a nice enough evening until... well, until the conversation had been steered to Al. It had gone downhill from there pretty fast.

“Look,” Jack said, suppressing a sigh, “I tried, okay?”

“You should've tried harder,” Daniel replied gloomily. “After all it was your idea to talk to them in the first place.”

“Yeah. But I wanted to wait until Doctor Svenson is back from her vacation so we could work something out first,” Jack repeated for about the umpteenth time. “ _You_ were the one wanting to get it over with so we could help Al work this out.”

“Can't you ever do anything without talking to Svenson first?” Daniel sniped acidly.

“Yes, I can. I can send you to your room.” Jack understood the kid was angry and anxious, but he wasn't willing to put up with this kind of attitude any longer. 

Daniel looked at him for the first time, assessing. Jack held his angry gaze with forced calmness. When the kid from hell decided not to spout any more smart-ass remarks, he cleared his throat and tried for reasonable. After all, there was a big Daniel in there. Somewhere. “You were there. You heard them. The Millers made it pretty clear they don't want anyone to interfere.”

“They're _wrong_ ,” Daniel ground out and glared at his dinner again. “You know it.”

“It's their kid.” Jack bit his lip, realizing this was basically a re-run of the conversation from last night. And Daniel had been in Jack's face when he'd pointed out the Millers had the last word in how to deal with their sons. After a round of arguing, Daniel had stormed out and locked himself in his room where he stayed until it had been time to leave for the mountain this morning. They had parted at the elevator in cold silence and avoided running into each other until it was time to go home again. 

The silent treatment on Daniel's part had continued until now.

“What I'm saying is; I can't force them to see reason and...” Jack continued, but trailed off when Daniel raised his head again, eyes dark and accusing.

“You told me to go to my room with Al.”

“You were getting out of line and Al was freaking.”

“I was just trying to make them listen.”

“And I was trying to keep things calm after you accused them of being passively abusive and irresponsible!” 

“Well, they are! They were belittling everything Bryan does to the point where they made it sound as if Al is exaggerating or lying just to get attention!”

“Which could be the other side of the story, ya know? All we have is Al's view on things. One should think his parents know him well enough to...”

“So you believe them?!”

“I don't know what to believe at this point. I heard two very different views on the situation last night. Maybe there's truth in both. But what would you have me do, Daniel? I gave them Svenson's number and they were out of here faster than you could click your heels three times.”

“Yes. And the only thing you succeeded in was making them forbid Al to ever come over again,” Daniel said sarcastically. “Thank you very much.”

“I ask you again; what did you expect me to do? Yell at them? Tie them to their chairs to make them listen? Read them the riot act? Shoot them? What?!”

“You should have let me stay...”

“And let you fire off accusations and insults? Yeah, that would have gone over well.” Jack snorted. “Face it, Daniel, you were losing it. And fast.”

“I was NOT losing it.”

“Oh, you SO were.” Jack pointed at Daniel's plate. “Are you going to eat your dinner?”

“My appetite just rolled over and died.” 

“Fine.” Jack stood and started to clear the table. “I guess it's time for bed then. Sleep tight.”

Daniel pushed back his chair and jumped up, cheeks burning with either rage or embarrassment – Jack couldn't tell – and stomped out of the kitchen.

Quietly  _thanking_ the Millers for giving him the week of hell Jack whistled for the dog and gave him Daniel's cold chicken. At least there was someone getting a treat out of this whole disaster.

Daniel had graciously remembered it was his turn to cook and had even done so without poisoning the food. Now Jack got to do dishes. He suspected Daniel had used every extra dish in the house to cook just to make sure Jack would spent some quality time rinsing and scrubbing off layers of fat before putting everything into the washer. When he was finally done wiping the counter and table, he fished a cold one from the fridge and sat at the kitchen table, unopened beer in front of him, brooding.

How to fix this?

Call the Millers and try to get through to them again? Or at least make them reconsider their decision not to let Al come over anymore? And then what? Just ignore their odd choice of ‘non interference' rule and start supporting Al anyway? Which would have been what Daniel wanted in the first place, right?

Gloomily fiddling with the damp label of his beer Jack recalled the happenings of last night...

_...It started out nicely with spare ribs, sweet corn, and garlic bread. Despite being a little geeky, the Millers seemed to be nice people. Bit flaky maybe, but nice. They turned up in jeans and t-shirts. Mrs. Miller (“Call me Louise.”) appeared to be way more comfortable this way and Mr. Miller (“Name's Ron”), who had just returned from a trip, looked a bit tired, but seemed to be an okay guy as far as Jack could tell._

_Louise wandered around Jack's living room in awe over the stone fireplace and the fact that Jack had been coach of a little league baseball team once. Her only suggestion to make the place even more comfy was to add potted plants and some art to the walls. Jack listened, nodded his head and shared a long-suffering look with Ron, tuning out Louise's chatter._

_He managed to avoid answering questions about Charlie's picture and shepherded their guests outside where Daniel had set the table and opened the wine to breathe._

_ Louise twittered approvingly about the food, sharing with Jack that she used to love cooking before her work started consuming her so much...  _

...The dinner had been Daniel's idea of course and after a time of hedging and arguing, Jack had finally agreed and called them. Bryan had been occupied with football practice that night which suited Jack just fine. He'd rather wanted to talk to the parents alone first. To give Al the feeling of being safe. And to test the waters with the Millers about the subject, period. Not having Daniel at the other boy's throat right away should have been another upside.

Jack was a tad worried about Daniel's apparent aggression towards Al's big brother without even knowing the other kid. Daniel, who usually was the 'talk first shoot later' kinda guy, seemed to have set his mind about Bryan. He was a bully. He was a bad, cruel kid whose goal in life was to torture Alistair. And, therefore, he had to be punished.

Things usually never were that simple with Daniel. He didn't do the 'if it looks like a duck...' routine lightly. That was more Jack's way of thinking. Had been anyway, before he had set foot through the Stargate.

Jack never thought he’d see the day where Daniel would make a simple judgment without even considering there might be more to this that met the eye. And while he agreed with Daniel's assessment of the situation on the whole, this out of character attitude made him cringe.

Poor Al had been extremely reluctant to bring the subject up in the first place and after what the Millers had told them Jack wondered whether the kid was scared of Bryan's wrath or just uncomfortable because he had exaggerated to make his brother look like a jerk.

Something was just very off there.

He let the events replay in his mind again. How pale and subdued Al had appeared over dinner, how Jack had wondered if forcing the kid to confront his parents had been the right decision, how Daniel had hotly defended his new friend when the Millers had smiled sadly and explained they knew about the conflicts between their sons, but...

_...It started out nicely with spare ribs, sweet corn, and garlic bread. Despite being a little geeky, the Millers seemed to be nice people. Bit flaky maybe, but nice. They turned up in jeans and t-shirts. Mrs. Miller (“Call me Louise.”) appeared to be way more comfortable this way and Mr. Miller (“Name's Ron”), who had just returned from a trip, looked a bit tired, but seemed to be an okay guy as far as Jack could tell._

_Louise wandered around Jack's living room in awe over the stone fireplace and the fact that Jack had been coach of a little league baseball team once. Her only suggestion to make the place even more comfy was to add potted plants and some art to the walls. Jack listened, nodded his head and shared a long-suffering look with Ron, tuning out Louise's chatter._

_He managed to avoid answering questions about Charlie's picture and shepherded their guests outside where Daniel had set the table and opened the wine to breathe._

_ Louise twittered approvingly about the food, sharing with Jack that she used to love cooking before her work started consuming her so much...  _

...The dinner had been Daniel's idea of course and after a time of hedging and arguing, Jack had finally agreed and called them. Bryan had been occupied with football practice that night which suited Jack just fine. He'd rather wanted to talk to the parents alone first. To give Al the feeling of being safe. And to test the waters with the Millers about the subject, period. Not having Daniel at the other boy's throat right away should have been another upside.

Jack was a tad worried about Daniel's apparent aggression towards Al's big brother without even knowing the other kid. Daniel, who usually was the 'talk first shoot later' kinda guy, seemed to have set his mind about Bryan. He was a bully. He was a bad, cruel kid whose goal in life was to torture Alistair. And, therefore, he had to be punished.

Things usually never were that simple with Daniel. He didn't do the 'if it looks like a duck...' routine lightly. That was more Jack's way of thinking. Had been anyway, before he had set foot through the Stargate.

Jack never thought he’d see the day where Daniel would make a simple judgment without even considering there might be more to this that met the eye. And while he agreed with Daniel's assessment of the situation on the whole, this out of character attitude made him cringe.

Poor Al had been extremely reluctant to bring the subject up in the first place and after what the Millers had told them Jack wondered whether the kid was scared of Bryan's wrath or just uncomfortable because he had exaggerated to make his brother look like a jerk.

Something was just very off there.

He let the events replay in his mind again. How pale and subdued Al had appeared over dinner, how Jack had wondered if forcing the kid to confront his parents had been the right decision, how Daniel had hotly defended his new friend when the Millers had smiled sadly and explained they knew about the conflicts between their sons, but...

_...“We choose not to interfere,” Ron Miller stated._

“ _The boys have to fight their own fights. It's good for them to solve conflicts on their own,” his wife added and addressed their son in a gentle way. “Al, you know how we think about your fights with Bryan.”_

“ _Yes, mom,” Al mumbled, squirming in his seat._

“ _Excuse me?” Daniel exclaimed with disbelief. “They're not fighting. Al's been getting beaten up by his brother for years.”_

“ _Bryan is a very strong and active child. He is quite different than Al,” Louise explained fondly. “They don't have much in common, but that doesn't mean Bry would ever harm his brother.”_

“ _He is captain of his football team and top of his class in sports. Al is the brain of the two of them. He's a genius when it comes to math and science,” Ron said, pride lacing his voice regarding both his boys._

_Jack didn't get the impression the Millers were favoring one of them. Either they were in denial about what Bry did to his little brother or they simply didn't know what was going on between those two. Or Alistair's issues were different entirely._

“ _Al tried to hide away in my tree house just to avoid meeting Bryan and his friends. Because they are bullying him all the time,” Daniel objected and nudged poor Al. “Tell them.”_

“ _They, uh, sometimes corner me and push me 'round,” Al stuttered, staring at his hands._

“ _Alistair,” Louise sighed, “they're older and a little rough. We talked about this, honey, didn't we?”_

“ _Yes, mom, but... but sometimes I get bruises.” Al swallowed and continued. “And Mitch has this large dog.”_

“ _Of course he does. I know Mitch's dog, dear.”_

“ _It scares me.” Al murmured._

“ _It scares him because they chase the dog after him,” Daniel interrupted clutching his silverware as though he wanted to break it. Or throw it._

_There was a long sad howl coming from the living room where Flyboy was sitting at the closed door, longingly staring at them. Jack felt sorry for the black beast; he was used to roaming the house and garden and being wherever Daniel was. However, Al still insisted Flyboy would eat him alive so the dog had to stay in the house. It would have been easier if Flyboy could've stayed with Jackson, but SG-1 was off world, so they had no choice but to keep him away from Daniel's new friend._

“ _Don't be silly.” Ron Miller shook his head. “Why on Earth would they do that?”_

“ _They hate me,” Al said, his lips quivering._

“ _Nobody hates you, Al,” Louise tsked, but Jack noticed how her eyes darkened and she avoided looking at her son. “That's all just in your head. They would never chase the dog after you, Al, that's just outrageous.”_

“ _How... how can you say that?” Daniel was half out of his chair, his fork and knife clattering to his plate. Jack grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him back, but the kid was on a roll now. “How can you sit here and say something like that? How dare you...”_

“ _Daniel,” Jack said through gritted teeth, tugging at his collar just enough to get his attention. “Take it down a notch.” Turning to look at Louise he added, “Maybe you should talk to this Mitch's parents, just in case Al feels threatened by that dog.”_

“ _Al was scared of dogs from an early age,” Ron jumped in. “We don't really know why since he was never bitten, nor did he have any other bad experiences with dogs.”_

_ Well, none that you know off maybe, Jack thought sourly. “Fact is he feels threatened. That's what he told us. So maybe the boys could agree on not letting the dog loose in Al's presence,” he said.  _

“ _What my husband is trying to say is that Al would be scared of Mitch's dog at any time. He's afraid of your dog too, is he not?” Louise brushed a hand through her son's brown hair. “Al's just very sensitive and fragile.”_

_Jack's eyes narrowed and he resisted the urge to point out that if she kept telling Al that, it was no wonder he’d started to believe it at one point._

“ _But he'll learn to stand up for himself as he gets older,” Ron added. “Right, buddy?”_

“ _Yes, dad.” Al gazed at his plate and pushed around his food._

“ _And until he learns that, he'll have to endure the bullying?” Daniel asked coldly, piercing Al's parents with glacier-like eyes._

_Jack realized then they were in way over their heads. Daniel couldn't keep it cool and Jack wasn't good at being diplomatic or playing the mediator on a good day. Crap. They should never have done this without a strategy, a battle plan. Plus, Daniel had insisted he and Al needed to be there to make sure the Millers understood how urgent the problem was. Bad idea. And Jack had given in under the condition that Daniel would try to keep the discussion neutral and civilized._

_Actually, he had kind of hoped the Millers would acknowledge the problem and take it in hand from here. That's what Jack's idea of the conversation had been. That once they knew what was going on, they'd jump into action._

_Not… this._

“ _We got the impression Al is suffering under his brother's attacks,” Jack said after an awkward pause, putting a hand on Daniel's shoulder to anchor him. “I don't think he's making any of this up.”_

“ _Colonel O'Neill,” Ron said stiffly. “You’ve only known our boy for a couple of days. I don't think you're in a position to judge Bryan. Whom you have never met. Kids fight. Siblings have to compete and test their boundaries with each other to grow into strong individuals. He won't learn to stand up for himself by being pampered.”_

_Louise jumped up and reached for the bottle. “More wine anyone? Or maybe some of the delicious bread? There's plenty!” She poured wine into half-full glasses without waiting for an answer._

“ _He won't learn that by always being the victim either though,” Jack said quietly, ignoring Louise's hectic activity. “Did you know your kid skipped daycare just so he didn't have to spend time with his brother there?” He revealed to the Millers how Daniel had found Al in his tree house last week, but - again - the reaction wasn't what he had expected._

“ _Now, Al, skipping daycare won't solve your problems, will it?” Ron addressed his son. He didn't sound mad or annoyed. More like a man who was reasoning with an errant business partner._

“ _No, dad,” Al replied, his bottom lip trembling again._

“ _Come on, you can deal with Bryan yourself, right?” Ron continued. “He's your brother. Surely you two can talk this through.”_

“ _Okay,” Al murmured and shrugged at Daniel who was gaping at him, doing the guppy expression._

“ _How is he supposed to talk it through with Bryan? Did you know Bryan pushed him down a staircase once and broke his arm? Or that he flushed Al's Lego down the toilet?” Fuming, Daniel tried to shrug off Jack's hand when it tightened around his shoulder. “That's the stupidest thing I ever heard!”_

“ _Of course Al is annoyed by how Bryan treats him sometimes,” Ron said mildly. “His perspective of things might be a little out of kilter. Bryan is impulsive and has a temper, but he would never hurt his brother on purpose.”_

_Louise took a deep breath. “Al, honey, I'm sure you misinterpreted some of these events. Your memory is a little altered by your hurt feelings. Bry would never push you down a staircase... on purpose. I remember when you broke your arm; it was an accident,” she said, her hands clutching the glass of wine as if she was holding on to it for dear life. She addressed Jack. “I'm really sorry he's so much trouble. He is a good kid, but his imagination runs away with him at times.”_

“ _Actually, he isn't any trouble at all,” Jack managed to put a word in. “And the reason I brought this whole thing up is that I might be able to help him cope better.”_

_Ron frowned. “Cope with what?”_

“ _Cope with what Bryan does to him,” Daniel snapped. “Teach him to fight back.”_

“ _Al has to find it in himself to fight back,” Ron explained._

_Louise brushed a strand of wayward hair from her face. “See, we believe it's character building to let children fight their own fights without interfering. And Bry doesn't do anything worse than pushing his brother around or knuckle his head sometimes. Al is a very sensitive child who takes things like that to heart. But Bry isn't a bad child or a bully. He's just the stronger one of them.”_

_And this was the woman who wouldn't allow her kid to swim outside because he might catch a cold? Jack shook his head in disbelief, trying to figure out what exactly was going on here._

“ _Well, as you noticed, I used to coach a junior league baseball team with kids Al's and Daniel's age. There are always stronger kids, leader types. But even those kids have to learn how to be team players just like everyone else. And if there's one thing that should never be tolerated it's bullying,” he said, trying to stay calm on behalf of his outraged kid._

“ _We'll talk to him,” Louise said, glancing at her husband for support. “Since Al seemed to have convinced you he is bullied by his brother...”_

“ _And his brother's friends,” Daniel added fiercely._

_Ron silently shook his head._

_Louise took a deep breath. “I... I really don't think there's much to it, honestly. You can come over and talk to Bry yourself, Colonel, if you think he's such a bad kid. But surely we know our boys best.”_

_Daniel said acidly, “You have no idea what's going on around you. You're never there. You're passively abusive and irresponsible the way you close your eyes while Bryan beats up Al every opportunity he gets.”_

_Al burst into tears at this point, saying he had known it was a bad idea to talk to his parents. He knocked over his apple juice in his hurry to leave. As he opened the door to the house Flyboy dashed out, happy to be free. Al let out a scream of fear and nearly fell on his skinny butt as he staggered out of the dog's way. Flyboy, startled by the boy's strange behavior, jumped forward..._

_Why did Daniel's encounters with other kids always had to end in total chaos? Jack leaped out of his chair and grabbed the dog by the collar before he could crash into the deck table or worse. Shooing Flyboy off into the yard, Jack turned to Daniel who was standing next to his chair, staring at the spot where Al had just been._

_He was nowhere to be seen._

“ _Daniel, see if you can calm him. And take him to your room.”_

“ _But...”_

_He seized Daniel's arm and pulled him inside while Louise was tutting and fussing over the soggy bread the apple juice had spilled over._

“ _You're not helping by yelling at them.”_

“ _I'll be back...”_

“ _Take care of Alistair and leave this mess to me. Stay in your room,” Jack ordered._

“ _Make them listen!”_

“ _I'll do my best. Go.”_

_Jack and Louise cleared the table and Jack took care of the apple juice mess as he apologized for Daniel's outburst and the dog while Louise apologized for Al's clumsiness and Jack assured her it was no big deal._

“ _Colonel.” Louise put the apple juice soaked bread into the kitchen trashcan and turned around to face him. “I appreciate what you and Daniel are trying to do. Believe me; we are aware of the problem. Al has issues of his own. He is very sensitive, very fragile.”_

_There it was again. Jack wondered how Al being fragile and sensitive fit with him having to figure out his issues on his own. “Then don't you think his self esteem needs a boost? Whether or not this all only exists in his imagination, he needs help.”_

“ _How do you think you'd be able to help him?”_

“ _He wants to learn to fight back. I can teach him.”_

“ _Fight back as in using his fists? We don't believe in fistfights. We believe in mind over matter. Al just has to learn to defend himself verbally.”_

“ _He'll have to get over his fear first. Or he'll never tell them off. He's just a kid. You have to show him how.” And if what the kids were saying was true, Bryan didn't seem to buy in the 'mind over matter' thing either._

“ _He'll learn on his own eventually,” Louise said with a forced smile._

“ _At least consider the possibility of getting professional help then.” He reached into his shirt pocket and handed her Doc. Svenson's card. “That's Daniel's therapist. She helped us deal with certain things in the past. She might be able to do something for Al.”_

_Louise reached for the card, but snatched her hand back when Ron's voice came from the doorway. “We don't believe in shrinks.”_

_ Yep, Jack thought, neither do I. Yet, here we are...  _

“ _That's right. We don't believe in strange people taking apart our family life and telling us what to do differently. We appreciate what you're trying to do, but no.” Louise started fiddling with the dishes on the counter._

“ _Thank you for dinner, Colonel, but I think we better leave now,” Ron said tightly._

_Jack held up his hands in defeat. “Okay. Whatever. But I still think you should do something to help your kid. I know it's not my call, but he's not a happy camper.”_

_Ron Miller said sharply, “I don't think Daniel is the proper friend for Al. It might be better if they don't see each other again.”_

“ _But Ron – Al never had a friend before. I think we should be happy he found another kid to play with. It's important for him to have friends his age. You said it yourself when Al first told us about Daniel,” Louise jumped in._

_Ron threw up his hands. “I'm happy for Al to have a friend, Louise, but if Daniel supports Al's delusional behavior, he's not the right friend for him. Let's talk about this some more once we're home, please.” With that Ron turned on his heels and stalked out._

_Jack could sense the unease in Louise, but for some reason she couldn't make up her mind. Avoiding Jack's eyes she murmured, “I'll get Al.”_

_Jack followed her out into the hallway. “Down the hall, turn right, second door on the left,” he instructed her before giving Ron a hard look. “You know, if you want your kid to fight his own fights, Daniel is the right one to teach him.” He was getting more annoyed with the Millers by the minute._

“ _Attitude won't help Alistair with his issues,” Ron said darkly._

“ _Then what exactly do you think will do the trick? He’s eight years old, not a diplomat. He needs some advice. Or therapy. Or maybe he just needs to spend some quality time with his parents if all of this is just his way to get attention.”_

“ _We both have full time jobs. Family time is rare and we have to divide it between two kids who have very different fields of interest,” Ron replied. “If you don't mind we'll decide how to raise our children without your help.”_

_Jack suppressed a sigh. It wasn't as if he didn't know what it was like to juggle work and raising a kid. He had been gone from home so much when Charlie had been little. And even with the advantage of Daniel working in the same place and not having to go to school and daycare, it hadn't always been easy when Jack had still gone off world. But at least they had a network of friends who kept an eye on Daniel and cared for him when Jack had been away. Maybe that's what the Miller's needed. Which of course was easier said than done._

_Jack gave it one last shot. “At least think about it.”_

“ _Certainly not,” Ron replied sharply._

_Louise returned with a very subdued Alistair in tow. Daniel was hovering behind them, giving Jack anxious looks._

“ _We’re ready to go. Say good bye to the colonel, Al,” she prompted._

“ _Bye,” Al whispered as he was shoved out the front door, which was slammed shut by Ron a moment later._

_Of course the bell rang right after that and Louise whisked in, mumbling she forgot her handbag and that she was sorry, but she couldn't quite remember where she'd put it. Jack found it under the couch and handed it to her with a rather sheepish smile. “Sorry. The dog likes chewing on things. I'll pay for it.”_

“ _Oh.” Louise stared at her bag. The brown leather strap was covered in teeth marks and dog drool. “Don't worry, it wasn't expensive, and it's old. So... thank you for dinner, Colonel.” She almost stumbled over the last step as she left the living room and finally the front door closed softly behind her._

_Daniel stared at him. “What...” he nervously licked his lips. “What happened?”_

“ _We blew it,” Jack said..._

_..._ Of course Daniel was convinced Jack had been the one who who blew it and told him so. Loudly. 

This was where they were at now.

***

Daniel clutched Amab to his chest and tried not to hiccup. He hadn't felt that miserable in … well in a while.

And, oh, he was so mad.

He couldn't decide whom he was mad at the most. The Millers for being too thick or in denial, Jack for sending him away and then not succeeding in changing their minds or... or at himself for losing his temper and being in the Miller's face like a rabid monkey. “No pun intended,” he apologized to Amab with a slight sniff.

And then there was the possibility that Al really had made things up or at least exaggerated about how badly Bryan bullied him. They were right, the Millers, about the fact that neither Jack nor Daniel had ever met Bryan. They were hardly in the position to judge over that boy.

Still Alistair's pain seemed to be so real. But was Daniel jumping to assumptions because of his own experiences?

The Wrexlers used to tell him if he'd ever confided in someone, nobody would believe him. Mr. Wrexler had been the school's baseball coach, well known and liked among teachers and parents. And they would have flatly denied anything Daniel might have spilled to anyone about his foster brothers.

“We'll just say you're clumsy and everyone'll believe it. You're a nobody. A nerd with no athletic bone in your scrawny body. Look at you, you’re disgusting,” Mr. Wrexler had scoffed. “And there's nothing to say against a little squabble between siblings. You should be grateful we took you in. Nobody else wants you anyway.”

The memories of those dreadful months were rushing at him again, threatening to swallow him.

Daniel's hands clutched Amab so hard, the little monkey's beady brown eyes almost popped out. He had spent hours locked away in their cellar, freezing and hungry, after the boys had 'punished' him for not doing their chores or homework.

“It's okay,” he muttered. “It's not happening now. It's been a long time ago. It's over and done with. Don't be a baby, Daniel.” Sometimes that's what he hated the most about being a child again. It brought back all the memories he had buried and locked away as an adult, making them more real again, more recent. And it didn't always help to know these events had happened a long time ago. Being little again made him vulnerable in too many ways.

A soft knock at his door made him jump. “Daniel, open up.” Jack's voice was muffled by the closed door.

“It's not locked,” Daniel called reluctantly and watched as Jack entered and sat down in the desk chair. 

“So,” Jack said. “Ready to talk about it? Or do you need another day of sulking by yourself?”

“'m not sulking.”

“Ah. Then what _are_ you doing? Because it looks like sulking to me. But then I'm not the one with the three PhDs, so enlighten me.” When Daniel failed to have a good come-back line for that, Jack raised his left eyebrow and continued, “Maybe you linguists call it a display of bad mood?”

Daniel bit his lip. “Silent resentment,” he muttered. “Showing displeasure and anger by not talking or being ill-tempered towards the person who caused said displeasure or anger.”

“Well, at least you didn't throw food this time. I guess that's progress,” Jack said dryly. Then his tone of voice changed into something Daniel secretly called the 'daddy-voice' – gentle, but firm at the same time, conveying the very simple message of 'I love you, but won't put up with this any longer'. “Talk to me, Daniel.”

And it got to him every damn time now. He used to be able to balk and tune out Jack's tries to get him to open up when he'd been big. At least for as long as Daniel needed to sort the problem out in his own head before he'd been ready to discuss it with anyone. But if there was one thing he had learned in this second childhood, it was the fact that if he refused to talk about whatever was eating away at him, it would come back to bite him sooner or later.

Daniel flung himself on his back and glared at the ceiling, hugging Amab to him. “I... I don't know what... all of this makes me so mad. I haven't felt like this in months. I didn't think... I thought I could handle this. Ever since you and BD made me talk about what happened with the Wrexlers...” He trailed off and shrugged. “I wish I’d never met Al.”

“But you did. Nobody said it's gonna be easy.” Jack picked up the box with the ying yang health baubles, opened it, and started rolling them on his palm. Jack was good with stuff like that. The baubles emitted a low jingling sound and circled around each other without touching; Jack's slender, long fingers kept them in constant rotation. “Don't kill the rotten monkey. It's not his fault you're mad.” 

Daniel loosened his hold on Amab and absently patted its furry back. “I made everything so much worse,” he whispered. “I didn't... I didn't expect this to be so... so...”

“Difficult? Weird? Yeah, me neither. I expected them to believe us. I had no idea they'd twist it all around into something else. I'm not saying Al is lying. But you gotta admit the Miller's reaction was kinda... odd?”

“Yes! They're weird. And not capable of...” Daniel started, but was interrupted by Jack.

“Acting like a brat won't make them listen to you though. And it doesn't make me look like a capable parent either. Wanna think about that for a minute?”

“I know that! I was just trying to make my point. They weren't listening in the first place!” Daniel's anger flared up again and he almost wished Jack would start a lecture about manners and tantrums. He'd give him a piece of his mind, if only to let off some more steam. After all he wasn't a little boy and if he got angry with the Millers it was only because they were narrow-minded and ignorant and... 

Jack didn't say anything though. For a while only the light pling pling pling of the health balls disturbed the meaningful silence. Slowly Daniel's anger subsided again. It was one of the frequently repeated mantras ever since he'd gotten littled;  _If you want to be heard and taken seriously, try to stay calm. Don't throw tantrums. Especially around people who don't know what you are. You're a linguist, use words - don't resort to yelling._

Sometimes it was just so hard to keep his act together. Sometimes he still felt overwhelmed by his kid-side taking over and then he lost his patience and couldn't control himself like he had been able to as a grown up.

Feeling more embarrassed than ever, Daniel turned on his side, facing the pyramid wall. “I'm sorry.”

“Just try not to let them get to you like that.”

“That's easy for you to say,” Daniel sighed.

“I know it's hard,” Jack said, his voice softer now. “And they annoyed me, too.”

“I'll try harder,” Daniel murmured. 

“Good enough for me.”

_Pling pling pling._ The sound of the health baubles calmed Daniel and he rolled over on his back again to look at Jack. “What if... what if they're right. About Al... About him making all this up to get attention? What if he fooled us into believing him? I believed him without a second thought. Because of what happened to me.”

The pling pling pling stopped abruptly as Jack put the baubles back into their velvet covered box. “You're taking all of this a bit too personal for my liking, but I believed him, too. And I think he does believe it himself.”

“What now?” Daniel asked.

“We'll wait till Svenson is back in her office next week and talk this through with her? Especially the way you're dealing with this.”

“I'm fine.” But he couldn't meet Jack's eyes and plucked at Amab's brown tail instead. 

“You're obsessing over this a bit, don't'cha think?” 

“I just want to help,” Daniel said stiffly. “That's not a bad thing. You said so yourself. You said I'm doing the right thing.”

“You are. But if it's eating you up like this you're making it worse. And you have to understand that Al's parents need to take the major steps. If they won't see or acknowledge their kids have problems, making a real difference for Al is going to be difficult.”

Chewing on his bottom lip, Daniel thought for a moment. “Jack? If... if they change their mind about Al coming over again... We could still work out with him, right? Teal'c showed me a lot of moves and self-defense tricks even a small person can use on bigger guys. He could show Al. Or you could.”

Jack took his time answering. He left the desk chair and sat down on the bed where he took Amab from Daniel and gazed into the monkey's beady brown eyes as if they were having a silent conversation.

“Al's _your_ friend,” he said finally. 

“Uh, yeah.”

“Why don't you teach him?” 

Daniel blinked. “Who? Me?”

“Sure, why not? You learned a lot from Teal'c and me – you're a quick study. You'll be a good teacher.”

“But...” Daniel sat cross legged on his bed now. “I don't know... are you serious? I'm not really that good.”

“You can show him how to block kicks and punches. You can show him how to fall; rollovers and stuff. It'll be enough to make him realize he doesn't have to be fragile and helpless if he doesn't want to be,” Jack said. “I know you can do it.”

“But how... ?” Daniel felt a flicker of excitement at the thought, but he was also a bit scared. What if he couldn't explain things properly to Al? What if he couldn't be as patient as Teal'c and Jack were with him? What if he accidentally hurt Al? What if Al simply refused to let Daniel show him anything?

“We can get mats from the SGC gym. You can work with him in the backyard and if the weather is crappy we'll figure out something else. I'm gonna be there to assist, but I think you should teach him. He's probably much less intimidated by someone his age. And maybe it'll be good for you to practice with someone your size for a change.” 

“Do you really think that'll work, Jack? You and Teal'c are the pros when it comes to, you know, physical strength.” Daniel couldn't picture himself teaching another kid hand-to-hand combat, even if it was only for defense.

“You don't have to be world champion to do this, kiddo. Trust me on this – you learned enough over all these years, big or little, to pass some of your skills on to Al,” Jack said firmly. “Stop underestimating yourself, Daniel. You want to help him or not?”

“Yes,” Daniel said with new confidence. “Yes, I do. I really do.”

“Right. Then let's do this.”

“Uh, first Al's folks have to allow him to come over again,” Daniel reminded Jack. Then his eyes grew wide. “Or are we doing this behind their backs?”

Jack pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Well, I kind of hope his mom will come around eventually. She seems to be a bit more willing to re-think her view on the situation. It's Al's dad who's the driving force against it.”

“So you'll talk to her again?” 

“I'll try. After we talked to the Doc.” 

**II**

Two days later they were in front of the garage dismantling Daniel's new-to-him bike. They examined each element for rust and oxidation and sorted out what could still be used. Jack had bought bike de-greaser and Daniel sat on the ground, spraying the liquid on bike parts and working it in with a cloth. The chain, chain rings, and cassette were the hardest to do; they were layered with old grease and dirt. Soon Daniel was sweaty, oily, and grimy. But he didn't care. It was satisfying to watch the progress as everything became clean.

Flyboy was snoozing a couple of feet away, stretched out like a large black blanket. His head was in the shadow of the open garage door and the rest of him basked in the warm afternoon sun. His red rubber ball lay next to him, abandoned after a play session.

Jack was working on parts of the frame. They had to rub off the old paint with sandpaper before they could re-paint it.

“Do you think BD would like to help?” Daniel asked without looking up from his task.

There was a pause before Jack replied. “He's on a mission. Will be gone for a couple of days.”

“I know. I mean when he's back. I could ask him to come over.”

“Sure, why not.” But there was an edge to Jack's voice that made Daniel look up. Jack had his back to him, studying something in his hands. “I think we can keep the pedals. Just need some cleaning,” he muttered.

Daniel opened his mouth to ask if everything was okay between Jack and BD. He had noticed how the two of them seemed to be kind of awkward around each other ever since the birthday party last weekend. But before he could start a careful interrogation, a series of cheers coming from the street made him snap his head around.

Jack turned with narrowing eyes. “What the...?”

Wheezing and clutching his sides Al came stumbling towards them, his eyes huge with terror. Without a word he staggered past them into the backyard. Daniel could hear him crush into a bush and yelp.

Then all hell broke loose.

A giant dog dashed down the driveway, two boys in tow. The kids skidded to a halt when they saw Jack and Daniel, disappointment and anger on their heated faces. “Where is he?”

“How should I know, idiot?”

“He was just here!”

“Hey,” Jack hollered. “You guys looking for something?”

Out of the corner of his eye Daniel saw a black shadow fly past him and block the other dog's way into the yard. At Jack's yell Flyboy slowed down, but continued to stalk towards the intruder who didn't seem to be intimidated in the slightest. They began circling each other, growling deep in their throats.

Jack let go of the pedals he had still been holding and carefully approached the two dogs. “Stay where you are, Daniel,” he ordered.

One of the boys took a step forward, but his friend grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

Both dogs ducked, ready to pounce.

Paralyzed, Daniel watched as the dogs were sizing each other up, their neck fur rising.

The other dog – Daniel reckoned it must be Buster – was some kind of boarhound mix with white short coat and large brown spots which gave him a cow-ish look. However, the way his body rippled with muscles and the slobber running down his muzzle as he bared his teeth wasn't cow-like at all.

“Don't move,” Jack snapped at the two boys when one of them attempted to step forward again.

“But your dog...”

The dogs still circled each other on stiff legs, eyes locked.

“Don't. Move.” Jack repeated, his voice low but sharp. He turned his head. “Daniel. Bring the hose.”

“Okay.” He slipped into the cool shadow of the garage and out the back door leading into the yard. The hose was in the grass near the deck. Jack watered the lawn and flowerbeds every evening. Unseen by the dogs Daniel hurried to the house, his heart hammering with fear. His hands trembled as he made sure the hose pistol was attached properly and locked, before he turned the water on. 

As Daniel crossed the lawn Flyboy attacked the boarhound.

Daniel clamped his mouth tightly shut to suppress a yell and clutched the hose with his hands.

One of the boys let out a high-pitched scream. “Buster!”

Not taking his eyes off the dogs who were trying to lock onto each other’s throats, growling and biting, Jack held out a hand and Daniel slapped the hose into it.

“Hold the gate open,” Jack said tightly. “But stay behind the fence. DON'T come any closer.”

“Hurry,” Daniel whispered, panic strangling his voice. “They're going to kill each other!!” 

Jack unlocked the hose pistol and showered the dogs with cold water until they let go of each other and backed off, yelping. Buster took refuge behind his owner’s legs while Flyboy remained in the middle of the driveway, barking madly and ignoring the water dripping from his black fur and tail.

“Please, Mister, take your dog away,” Buster's owner sobbed. “Please, I'm sorry, call your dog away!” 

Jack stopped the water and whistled. Flyboy jerked his head towards the sound and suddenly Daniel found his voice again. “Flyboy,” he yelled. “Come here, boy, over here!”

Reluctantly Flyboy stalked over to Jack who grabbed his collar and handed him to Daniel. “Take him and close the gate.”

Daniel did as he was told and crouched next to his dog who greeted him with a tentative lick to his hands. “You stupid stupid dog,” Daniel murmured and buried his face into the wet fur, but jerked back when he felt something sticky touch his skin. “Jack!” He started to brush his hands through Flyboy's neck fur. “He's bleeding!”

***

“Put your dog on a leash,” Jack snapped at the sturdy blond boy who crouched to examine Buster.

“I don't have one,” the kid said with a slightly trembling voice as he was dragging his dog with him. The other kid was already retreating fast. 

“You better have one with you in the future,” Jack bellowed, barely keeping his temper in check. “And make sure the bites get treated. If nobody in your family knows how to do it call the vet. They can get infected. Do you understand that?” 

“Y... your dog wasn't on a leash either,” the other boy piped up from a fair distance. “He attacked Buster.” That must be Bryan, the not-bully. He had the same brown straight hair and green eyes as Al and his mom. 

“Let's get outta here.” The first kid had reached Bryan now. His hands clutched Buster's collar tightly, but the dog didn't put up a fight as he was pulled across the pavement. 

Jack remembered Alistair was hiding somewhere in his yard and the last thing he wanted was the dogs getting tangled again. So he decided to let the culprits go for now. There would be time to pay the Millers a visit later. “Get lost! I don't want to see the two of you anywhere near my property again. Understood?”

The two brats hightailed it out of Jack's driveway, Buster in tow.

“Jack! He's hurt!” Daniel's face was white with outrage and worry when Jack crouched next to Flyboy a moment later. “And his leg is swollen!”

“He gave as good as he got though,” Jack said as he carefully probed Flyboy's right front paw. “Stupid brats. Walking around with a lose Dane. We have to get him inside and disinfect those wounds.”

“Do we need the vet to take a look at him? Do you want me to call?” 

“Yeah,” Jack agreed. “But let me check first. Maybe I can take care of...” 

“What about his leg? Don't you think we'd better go to the vet right away? He's going to be okay, right? He's not... he's not...”

“Daniel, Daniel.” Realizing the kid was in some kind of shock, Jack stood and gently squeezed a trembling shoulder. “He'll be all right, okay?”

“Look, he's limping.” Daniel pointed at Flyboy who was hobbling across the lawn to the house.

“I'll take care of those wounds,” Jack decided. “I want you to go and find Al.”

“Al! I totally forgot about him!” Daniel's eyes widened. “Can you handle Flyboy alone?”

Hoping the black beast didn't make a fuss Jack nodded. “Take Al inside and give him something to drink. He didn't look so good.” He had only gotten a glimpse of the boy, but was sure he’d seen blood on his face. “You know where the first aid kit is,” he called after Daniel's retreating back.

Jack took Flyboy to the bathroom and tended to the injuries. He kept talking gently to the mutt as he cleaned the wounds with warm water and put Betadine on the small swollen cuts. However, two of the bites were punctures and still bleeding. Jack decided to let them drain and call the vet. He only hoped Buster had gotten all his shots and wasn't carrying any diseases. Flyboy didn't make a sound while Jack treated him as well as possible. He lay on the tiled floor and stared at him with sad brown eyes.

“You'll be good as new, buddy,” Jack said soothingly and looked up when the bathroom door opened. Daniel entered. Behind him, peering anxiously over his shoulder, hovered a very pale Al sporting a swollen lip and dried blood on his green t-shirt.

“How is he?” Daniel knelt next to his dog.

Al took a few steps back, nervously wringing his hands.

“He's okay for now, but I want him to be checked out.” 

Daniel had already brought the phone and handed it to Jack. When the desk lady at the clinic put him through to the doc, Jack rose to his feet, wincing at the noises in his kneecaps. He settled on the tub as he explained the situation and described the bites.

The doc told them to come in as soon as possible, so Jack patched Flyboy up with gauze and told Daniel to get a blanket from the basement. Both boys hurried to comply and when Daniel had washed the bike grime from his hands and face, they settled Flyboy on the blanket in the backseat of the truck. Daniel sat next to him and Al in the passenger seat.

Jack was going to drop Al off at his parent's house and have a word with whoever was home there, but when he steered the truck out of the driveway, Al asked, “Can... Can I come with you to the clinic, Colonel?”

“I don't know. You should let your mom put ice on that lip, kid.”

“My mom's not home and Daniel already gave me a cold pack,” Al said quietly. “I need to know Flyboy will be okay.”

“Well, if you put it that way... if all the animals get too much for you, you can wait in the truck, okay?” 

Al nodded. “He kind of saved my life, sir. He's like a real hero. Like in the TV shows, you know? Where dogs rescue humans? I never thought they could do it for real. Unless they were trained by the police or... or... something. Flyboy isn't a police dog, right? Or a military dog? Or a mountain avalanche dog?”

“Nope, he's just a stray dog from the streets of Cairo,” Jack confirmed, biting back a grin. 

“But he's very brave,” Daniel made himself heard from the back seat. “And very smart!”

“Yep,” said Jack, knowing he'd have a very spoiled dog on his hands for the next couple of weeks.

Flyboy, action hero. Had a nice ring to it.

“Buster would've gotten me this time, I'm sure. He was so close. I didn't know what else to do. 's why I ran into your garden. I'm sorry. I didn’t know anywhere else to go,” Al said meekly. He sounded a little muffled due to his swollen lip. 

“His nose was bleeding,” Daniel shared from the backseat. “But he still has all his teeth, I checked. There's a cut on his lip. I put iodine on it.”

“What happened?” Jack left the neighborhood and turned on the freeway.

“Mom and dad questioned Bryan about what you told them,” Al mumbled around his swollen lip wrenching his skinny arms around himself much the same way Daniel used to do it. “Bryan cried and made a scene. He said he never bullies me... but... but I think mom didn't believe him this time. She had chewed him out before when she caught him doing stuff to me, but she always told me not to whine about it and that he didn't really mean it.” Al took a shaky breath. “Dad went on about how I had to learn to stop Bryan myself and not to be a baby. He said you were putting ideas into my head, which was much worse than what Bryan does. And he said mom would always pamper me and make me weak. And that Bryan was just testing his boundaries with me and stuff. But mom said maybe Bryan was really overdoing it and she told him to leave me alone.” 

“Maybe she was finally hit by the clue bus,” Daniel snorted.

“Daniel,” Jack felt compelled to warn, but not with much feeling.

“Mom said we were to be civilized and nice around each other and if we couldn't we just had to keep out of each other's way. And then she sent us to our rooms and said we had to stay there and not see each other for the rest of the evening. Then she went to bed because she had a headache and dad left.” 

“Did Bryan leave you alone?” Daniel asked.

“Yeah. I expected him to get back at me because he thought I was a tattletale. But he didn't. He just ignored me. Until today. I had my laptop with me at daycare to work on my tetris game. After daycare I decided not to take the bus home and walk. It takes longer, but there are friends of Bryan on the bus who always pick on me. They must've followed me, 'cuz suddenly they were after me. Mitch and Bryan and Buster.”

“Does Mitch take his dog to daycare?” Daniel asked puzzled.

“No. Mitch hadn't been at daycare today. They must have met somewhere. So I ran as fast as could. I lost the... the laptop.” Tears started to trickle down his face. “I stumbled and fell and let go of it.”

“Was that when you cut your lip?” Jack asked gently.

“No. They grabbed me when I tried to pick up the laptop. Bryan punched me in the face. But then Mitch kicked my laptop under a car and Bryan started yelling at Mitch that I'd probably tell mom and dad what happened to the laptop if it was broken. He let me go and I started running again. Mitch yelled at Buster to catch me and I think he would have this time if Flyboy didn't... you know... attack him... I was out of breath and my ribs hurt.”

“Did you fall on your ribs?” Alarm bells went off in Jack's head. Crap. Maybe they should have gotten Al to a doc to have him checked out.

But Al shook his head. “No, it starts hurting when I'm running too long. Maybe 'cuz my breathing's really wrong as you said.”

“So,” Jack asked, trying to look at Al and the freeway at the same time. “What are you going to tell your parents? About your lip and the laptop?”

“If I tell them the truth Bryan is going to do something real awful. But if I can't get my laptop back I'm gonna be in trouble at school after the summer... my digital arts project is on there. And everything else.”

“You do realize I have to talk to your parents, right?”

“They won't like that,” Al murmured as he seemed to shrink in his seat.

“Well, I need the phone number of the other guy's folks. He can't walk around with his dog loose. They could've killed each other.” Not to mention the fact that brat used his Dane to attack other kids. Jack wondered what was up with that. Great Danes usually were gentle giants. Unless they were trained to attack. He doubted a kid could drill a dog like that without guidance from an adult. This told him a lot about Mitch’s parents. 

He briefly wondered if the Millers even knew the parents of Bryan's friends.

When they reached the clinic Daniel helped Flyboy out the truck and put him on the leash. Al kept his distance, but followed them inside. While Jack filled out all the necessary forms Daniel told his new friend about Nashi the raccoon: how they had rescued him and brought him here.

“You really like animals, don’t you?” Al asked, nervously scanning the room for threatening beasts. 

“Yes, I do,” Daniel said. “Nashi was a good friend.”

Jack remembered Nashi all too well. That raccoon had given him lots of new gray hair, thank you very much. When he signed the form for the medical secretary he realized they had been here with Nashi around the same time last year. Shortly after Daniel's birthday.

Time was flying.

When they had acquired the dog last fall, Doctor Jenks had given him all his shots and had been their veterinarian ever since. Until now Flyboy had been healthy as a horse and didn't need any medical care other than regular shots and heart-worm pills.

They moved into the waiting area. Flyboy settled at Daniel's feet somewhat drowsily. Al looked as if he had swallowed a stick, or didn't dare breathe. His eyes were darting from one animal to the other. Thankfully the room wasn't crowded. Jack counted two other dogs, a Yorki and a Bearnaise who looked bored rather than intimidated by his surroundings. There was a very unhappy cat in a box hissing and growling. And a little boy holding a goldfish glass between his knees.

Noticing Al's distress Jack sat next to Daniel and took the leash from him. “You two can go and wait in the hall if you like.”

“No, it's all right. Daniel said … Daniel said he wants to stay with him. I’m staying, too.”

Jack wondered if he had been wrong about this kid. Maybe there was some courage in the boy after all. It was obvious he was scared of so many dogs surrounding him. Jack hoped for the kid's sake they didn't have to wait too much longer.

***

Doctor Jenks was very nice about letting Daniel and Al watch as he examined Flyboy's bites and the leg. He explained everything he did and even Alistair seemed to be interested. Relief flooded Daniel when he heard the leg wasn't broken. And then he worried again when the doctor continued, “It's a bruise. He won't be able to use that leg for a while and you have to check it every day to make sure the swelling doesn't get worse. If it feels like there's fluid in it you have to come back. But I'm pretty sure it won't come to that. Make sure he doesn't walk on that leg. No exercise until the swelling is gone. He can go out to relieve himself, but that should be it. Now let’s get him a nice party hat.”

“A party hat?” Daniel's eyes narrowed at the cone shaped plastic collar Jenks retrieved from a shelf.

“I had to put stitches in two of the bites. And he'll need a bandage on that leg. We don't want him to chew the bandage off or scratch at the stitches, do we?” Jenks handed Jack the collar. “Take it off when he eats. You can also keep it off as long as you're in the same room and keep an eye on him. But if he doesn't leave the wounds alone you’ll have to put it back on.”

They were instructed to put cold packs on the leg several times a day for twenty minutes and Flyboy got antibiotics for a week.

On their way home they stopped at the street where Al had lost his laptop and Jack went to look at the car Mitch had kicked it under. He even knocked on a few doors and asked if someone had found it, but without success.

“Someone probably took it with them,” Jack said. “Sorry.”

Al stared at him wide eyed. “Thank you for trying, sir, that's really nice of you.”

“That's okay.” Jack patted Al's back before he put his seat belt back on. 

“Are your parents home yet?” Daniel asked when they were driving again.

Al shook his head. “Mom won't be there until nine and dad is gone again to some … I dunno where he is. Only Bryan might be there.” He grimaced. “I don't want to go there.”

Without another word Jack drove them home and ordered pizza.

When Flyboy was on his favorite blanket in front of the cold fireplace Daniel and Al went outside to put away the tools and bike parts. As they worked Daniel told Al what he wanted to do with his bike. “We'll paint the frame red,” he said. “And I got new wheels and brakes. It doesn't look like much now, but when we've put it together again it'll be a great bike.”

“We can ride our bikes together then,” Al said. “My parents won't even notice. They're never there to notice anything.” He blushed hard and shrugged. “I thought 'bout what you said. It's true. They're gone so much, they don't really know anything about me or Bryan.”

“Was it always like this?” 

“No. When I was little, like going to kindergarten, mom was home. But when I started school mom got this new job and… you know... she really loves working there. She says there's nothing more fascinating than working with DNA. They experiment on rats. That's kind of yuc,ky, but they make lots of progress.”

“Can't they hire a nanny for you and Bryan?” Daniel closed the toolbox and put it on its shelf.

“Dunno. Maybe it cost too much. We’re at school and daycare most of the time. When Bryan isn't home I have to have a babysitter. I like the babysitter better than Bryan.” Al shrugged. “I just hate when they’re bossy and want to check if I brushed my teeth and send me to bed early just because they want to watch TV and call their boyfriends. Who looks after you when your dad has to work long or goes out?”

“My uncle Daniel or Murray. And sometimes Sam. She's a physicist.” It was very odd to think of SG-1 as his babysitters, but in a way that was what they were. Making sure he had regular meals, didn't work too long, went to bed... well nobody checked if he brushed his teeth. So there was a difference after all. 

Al handed Daniel the tool box to put it on the shelf. “Hey, Daniel? Your dad is really nice. I... I didn't think I liked him much at first. But now I do. He even looked for my laptop for me.”

Daniel grinned. “Yeah, he's okay. Most of the time.”

“He does stuff with you,” Al pointed out. “Like going to the park and working on the bike.”

“Doesn't your dad do stuff with you?” 

“Yeah, sometimes. But mostly he works.” Al shrugged.

They finished tidying up and closed the garage doors just as the pizza guy parked his car in front of the house.

Jack didn't make Al call his parents this time. They ate out on the deck and only realized they forgot to close the door when Flyboy joined them and lay down next to Daniel's chair.

“I'm sorry.” Daniel put down his pizza slice. “I'll take him back inside.”

But Al didn't jump. Gazing at Flyboy for a moment he said shyly, “He's a pretty dog.”

As if he had heard him, the dog rose to his feet and took a tentative limping step towards Al who was seated across from Daniel. Al swallowed and wrapped his arms around himself.

“Easy,” Jack said. “Relax. He won't do anything.”

“He just wants to sniff you, it's okay,” Daniel murmured soothingly. 

“O... okay.” 

Uncharacteristically careful opposed to his usual animated attitude, Flyboy edged closer and, then sat and tilted his head to one side as he stared at the boy. Daniel held his breath, expecting Al to bolt any minute, but his friend didn't move.

“Talk to him,” Daniel encouraged.

“Oh, okay... hi Flyboy, you... you're really a nice dog.”

Flyboy wagged his tail and tried to nudge Al’s leg, but the collar got in the way. Al's eyes widened, but he didn’t flinch.

“I think that's enough for now,” Jack said, then addressed the dog. “C'mere. Get down, that's right. You're a good boy.” Flyboy had left Al's side and settled next to Jack who reached down and petted him. 

“He didn't bite me,” Al said, a little shocked and surprised. “My... my dad says dogs smell if you're scared and then they'll bite.”

“Well, it depends on the situation and the dog. If you're panicking and start running when the dog is already upset or scared, he might bite or at least go after you. Flyboy is a pretty easy dog though. You be nice to him and he'll be your friend forever. But if someone tries to mess with his family, he can get pretty upset,“ Jack explained.

“It's my fault he got hurt,” Al said, blushing again.

“It's not your fault,” Daniel objected. “It's not Buster's fault either. It's Mitch's fault. And Bryan's.” Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to punch those boys in the noses for what they had done to his dog. 

He remembered when he had blown up a tank of Goa'uld larva on Chulak. How he had felt a dark satisfaction at the squeals of the dying snakes. None of them would harm another human being. Later he had been sitting in the darkness of his apartment and tried to come to terms with the realization that he had killed in cold blood. That was something he hadn't thought he'd be capable of. But there it was. Daniel Jackson, pacifist with a passion, was only a human being. And pushed hard enough, hurt deeply enough, he reacted just like the next guy. Once he had accepted those facts, he’d tried to work on controlling his hate for the Goa'uld so that it wouldn't consume him.

What Bryan and Mitch had done to Flyboy... even though they hadn't touched him with their own hands... was making him mad. It didn't have the same quality of murderous inferno he’d felt on Chulak staring at those larva with the gun in his hand. But those boys had hurt someone Daniel loved. And it brought up all kinds of memories from his screwed up childhood. He wanted to really hurt those kids back. Just once. To show them what it felt like to be hurt the way they were hurting others.

For all those times he had been as helpless as Al was now. After all it hadn't just been the Wrexler boys. There had been others. At the orphanage, at school... Daniel had been just like Al. Small and a bookworm, not wanting to socialize... He’d wanted to be left alone, nothing more nothing less. For some reason others had often felt he was fun to push around. And maybe he had been. Maybe he’d been so attack-able because of what he was. Because he had never pushed back, had never taken the bigger or brattier kids head on. Because he had had an invisible sign on his head that said:  _I'm the outsider. Kick me around._ But he hadn't had the ability to make himself heard and respected by hitting and snarling back, either. He’d never learned the language of the schoolyards and playgrounds.

Today Daniel was different.

Going through the gate and working for the military had taught him more life lessons than he’d cared to know or learn. But not all of them had been bitter and he had discovered he had enough inner strength to go through hell and back without ending up a basket case.

He wouldn't allow anyone to hurt his friends, family, or pet.

Ever.

“I'm going to show you how to defend yourself the next time anyone attacks you,” he told Al solemnly. He could do it. Jack was right. 

Al blanched. “It won't work. I'm not as brave as you are.” He lowered his eyes to his plate, heat creeping into his face.

“How about you try it before giving up right away,” Jack encouraged Daniel's new friend. “You’ll never know if you don't give it a go.” 

“I can't fight.”

“Everyone can fight. Or at least learn how to block attacks. You don't have to be world champion to learn that. Come on, it might even be fun,” Daniel coaxed. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Jack smile. 

“I'm a real wimp,” Al went on gloomily as if he didn't hear Daniel. 

“All right, hold it. Look at me.” Jack put a finger under Al's chin, tilting his head back. “You did something very brave today. You stayed with Daniel and Flyboy the whole time at the clinic even though you're scared of dogs. Just now Flyboy got pretty close and you didn't run. You know what that means?”

“What?”

“Your eyes almost popped out of your head, but you didn't run. That's what it's all about. Trying to get over your fear by facing it.” Jack patted his shoulder. “Have a little faith in yourself, buddy.”

“I'm not even supposed to be here.” Al sighed.

“We'll take care of that,” Jack promised. “Eat up, kids. It's time to face the music.” 

***

After dinner Jack watched Daniel fuss over Flyboy; making sure he had dog treats, worrying about the huge plastic collar being too tight. “Can't we take it off, Jack?”

“No. He'll chew off his bandages while we're gone.” He was aware Daniel knew that, but apparently the events of the day had stripped some of his control from him. 

“But Ja-ack, he doesn't like it.”

“I'm sorry, Daniel.”

“Do we really have to leave him alone? I can stay with him... or he can come with us...”

“We have to get Alistair home and you know what Doc. Jenks said about the leg. He has to stay off it as much as possible for a couple of days. And no, you can't stay here with him.”

“But he'll get anxious. He hates being alone.”

Daniel: 1 – O'Neill: 0

“He's groggy. I bet he'll go right to sleep.”

“And if he gets antsy he'll run around on his leg anyway and hurt himself even more.”

Daniel: 2...

“He's better off staying home,” Jack said. Except the stupid dog would probably start howling and jumping around the house. He was better about being left alone, but he still hated it. And being in pain would probably crank up the anxiety level. 

Daniel turned wide blue puppy dog eyes on him and batted his eyelashes. “I know you'd call BD if he wasn't on a mission, but see, there's nobody here. They're all gone. And Janet is at the mountain.”

Bottom line was; Jack's choices were between letting Daniel stay at home alone to babysit the dog or drag the poor beast with them to take Al home.

There was an alarm system in the house and Daniel could take care of himself. Logically there was no reason why Jack couldn’t leave him alone for an hour. He’d never done it before, but theoretically he could... Then again it probably couldn't hurt if Al's parents got to see Flyboy's injuries to realize Jack wasn't making 'things up'.

And maybe it was a good idea to have Daniel there as an eye-witness to what had happened today.

In the end he shepherded them all back into the truck and when they reached Al's house he told Daniel to stay with the dog. “I don't want him to jump in and out any more than he has to. If the Millers don't slam the door in my face right away, I'll get you. In the meantime stay put.” Flyboy hated being left alone in the truck even more than being alone at the house and Jack didn't want him to rant.

He put a supporting hand on Alistair's back as they walked to the front door.

Louise opened and blanched at the sight of her son. “What happened to you, honey? Did you fall again? Oh, you're so...” She trailed off when she spotted Jack and bit her lip. “Colonel O'Neill, this is a... surprise.”

Al swallowed. “I didn't fall, mom. Bryan punched me.”

“That's not true!” came a scream from somewhere in the house. “He's lying again, mom!” 

“Come in, come in, Al. We were waiting for you with dinner.”

“I had dinner at Daniel's,” Al protested as he was pulled into the house. 

Louise nodded absently. “Fine. That's nice.” She gave Jack a nervous smile. “Thank you for dropping him off, Colonel. If you'll excuse me now, I'm tired and the boys need my attention.“

“I don't think so, ma'am,” Jack said. “There's something Bryan might want to share with you while I'm here. And I'd like you to take a look at my dog.” He turned and signaled Daniel to join them. 

“I don't understand?” 

“Oh, I'm sure Bryan can explain it to you.”

Daniel supported Flyboy as he climbed out of the truck.

“What has Bryan to do with your dog? Oh my... what happened to that poor animal?”

“It wasn't me,” Bryan whined. He appeared in the hallway and elbowed Al out of the way. “It was Buster. And that dog was attacking him. We were just playing chase with Al.”

“That is SO not true,” Daniel yelled as he marched down the paved garden path. “You had the dog set on him! You came on our property and my dog was defending us!”

“It's not my fault Al had to run into your driveway,” Bryan countered.

And then everyone was talking at once. “Children, please, we have to discuss this...”

“Daniel is right, Mom! Buster was trying to kill me!”

“Moron! He was just playing!”

“Bryan, don't use words like moron when you're talking to your brother.”

“If I'd mowed your head off with a lawn mower, would you believe I'm just playing, too?”

“Who are you anyway? Don't tell me Al found a friend.” 

“That's enough!” Jack bellowed. When everyone but Daniel froze, he gestured at the hallway and added calmly. “Maybe we could take this inside.”

Louise blinked. “I'm not sure. My husband isn't home. We'll talk to Bryan later.”

“I'm afraid that's not good enough.”

“I'm sure you're over reacting...”

“Will you take a look at my dog, ma'am?” Jack said coldly. “And at your kid? Take a good look and tell me again there's nothing going on here that needs to be addressed ASAP:”

With a defeated sigh, Louise finally stepped aside and Jack ushered Daniel and dog into the house closing the front door behind them.

“This way... you have to excuse me, I'm doing my ironing in the living room, there's lots of laundry... oh, don't sit there, Al. My laundry basket... Colonel, if you'd like to... a beer?”

“No, thanks.” 

They entered a small living room dominated by an over-sized red plush couch and an ironing board standing in front of the TV. Jack wasn't surprised to see lots of plotted plants on the windowsills and in every corner of the room. Large framed pictures of blurred colors and shapes were hanging on the walls and Jack briefly wondered if Louise was a lover of abstract painting, or if that was more Ronald's venue.

He motioned for Daniel and Al to sit on the couch. Flyboy settled down at Daniel's feet.

Bryan was already on his way out the door when Daniel shot up from the couch again. “You! Stay here!”

The other boy glanced at his mom and then back at Daniel. “Whyyyy?”

“Because we say so,” Jack said firmly. “Sit. Talk. We'd like to hear your version of the story and compare it to mine.”

“Mooom, I've got homework to do.”

“Bryan, the colonel has a point. I need to hear from you what's going on. You should be done with your homework already, it's too late to start now anyway,” Louise said, absently massaging her temples with her fingertips. Dark rings were circling her eyes. Jack noticed she was wearing a white lab coat and pants. He wondered if she forgot to change when she left her laboratory. From what he had learned about her, that didn't seem too far out there.

“We were playing,” Bryan started defiantly. “Al was it and we chased him down the street and suddenly he turned left and ran into their yard. Buster thought it was fun and followed. Then there was that dog. It attacked Buster. And that man threatened to shoot us.”

Jack's eyebrows climbed upwards. “You have one vivid imagination, kid.”

Louise turned huge green eyes on him. “Colonel, surely you didn't...”

“I told them I don't want to see them on my property again. I'm not going to shoot kids nor do I threaten to shoot them.”

“Buster isn't our dog,” Louise said after a deep breath.

“But it's the dog of your son's friend. I want their phone number. They have to stop letting that dog run loose.” He pinned Bryan with a glare. “Do you have any idea what would have happened if Buster got to Al? Or if I couldn't separate those dogs?”

“It was just fun,” Bryan whined, his bottom lip quivering suspiciously.

“Yeah? You didn't look like you had much fun back there when the dogs were at each other's throats.”

Bryan narrowed his eyes, switching back to being defensive. “Your dog's a killer, Mister.”

“That's colonel to you. And how do you explain your brother's lip? Played a little rough there, didya?”

“His nose was bleeding, too,” Daniel added coldly. 

“He fell,” Bryan yelled his voice trembling with anger or fear. “He always does that. Falls and bumps into things. He's such a baby!”

Al started to cry and explain about his lost laptop. Bryan scoffed, saying he didn't make Al lose his stupid laptop. Which caused Daniel to sneer and Al to scream murder about how he'd be in trouble at school and that all his games and data were lost.

Jack started silently counting to ten. He was this close to going ballistic. What was he doing here anyway? The Miller's problems weren't any of his business. All he wanted was to get that phone number and to get the hell outta here.

Except Daniel had made this whole mess his own personal vendetta and Jack couldn't just grab him and leave. Not if he ever wanted to hear the end of it and live his life peacefully anytime soon.

“For crying out loud, quit it already!” he hollered, causing Al to stop ranting in mid sentence and Bryan to grimace.

Daniel opened his mouth, but Jack held up a warning finger. “Aht!”

Louise stood in the middle of the room, small and white as a ghost. “Thank you, Colonel. I don't know what to say. Bryan, what you did was very dangerous. Do you see how upset Al is? You know how easily scared your brother is.”

“You'd be scared, too, if a 120 pound dog came after you,” Jack said curtly. “Buster might be a nice dog, but he didn't come across as playful when he chased after your son.”

“Oh my god.” Louise dropped into a loveseat, the whole magnitude of what had happened apparently sinking in. “What are you boys up to? Why can't you just get along like normal people should? Why do you always have to... squabble.”

“What do you care?! You're just pretending you care with all your fussing, but you don't! You're never home anyway!” Bryan slipped from his chair and left, slamming the door behind himself. Jack handed Al a tissue to blow his nose and Daniel was on the floor petting the dog, who was getting nervous. 

“They're not squabbling,” Jack said. “And I think you know it.” 

“What am I supposed to do, Colonel? I can't take off from work. We’re close to a major breakthrough. There's no way I can stay home and keep an eye on the boys all the time. And Ron, he's... well, he’s out of town a lot lately... And I can't just hire a nanny. We can't afford it on top of paying for the house and the new car.”

“Call the number I gave you. Doctor Svenson will be back in her office next week,” Jack offered. “Tell her I recommended her and that you'll need an appointment soon.”

“I don't know. We can't afford a psychologist either. Not long term anyway.” 

“Doctor Svenson is very nice. I'm sure she'll be forthcoming if you'd just call and at least talk to her,” Daniel said. “And please - let Al come over to visit again. So that he doesn't have to spend time with Bryan after daycare.”

“And find another daycare center he can go to. Maybe separating those boys is the easiest way to go for now,” Jack added.

“I... I can't send Al to your house every day. That's too much to ask of you.” Louise sighed.

Jack agreed, but he'd rather bite his tongue than to say it out loud in front of a Daniel who was bristling with anger. “Maybe there's a way to arrange something.”

“Bry has football practice three times a week and won't be home until Ron picks him up. If I could find another daycare center where Al can go for the rest of the summer...” She rubbed her temples and rose. “I'll get you the phone number of Mitch's parents, Colonel. And I'm going to talk to Ronald. Maybe you’re right. Maybe we have to do something about this. Finally.”

The smell of burnt clothes put an end to the discussion. Louise shrieked and jerked the iron from the board, waving off a small cloud of smoke. She pulled the plug from the socket and held up a white shirt sporting a black patch.

Jack winced and made some sympathetic noises. Louise hurried upstairs to look for Mitch's phone number and Jack hoped she would find it. Al wiped his tear stained face and went to open a window to get rid of the burnt smell.

She returned a few minutes later and handed Jack a piece of paper with a phone number scribbled on it. “I'm sorry it took a while. There's such chaos on my desk... “

_Surprise,_ Jack thought sarcastically. “Thanks. We'll better go now. The dog needs rest.” 

He couldn't get out of there fast enough.

Later, Daniel and his dog stayed out on the deck together as Jack went inside to call Buster's owner. Nobody answered the phone. He left a message on their machine including his home number. When he crossed the living room to summon his kid, Jack heard him talking quietly to Flyboy.

He paused at the open door to listen.

Daniel was rubbing Flyboy's belly to distract him from trying to scratch at his stitches. The party hat was on the deck table.

“...shouldn't have kids at all. You know, like some of those people I had to stay with when I was in foster care. And the Millers are just as bad in a way. As long as they aren’t bothered they don't care. Can you believe they didn't even know...”

“Daniel? Come in. It's getting dark.”

But Daniel continued to brush his hand over Flyboy's belly. “Jack? Why are some people so stupid?”

Lately they always seemed to have serious talks before bedtime. If it wasn't so warm Jack would go for hot chocolate. As it was they had run out of ice cream as a comfort snack, too. So he just sauntered out and leaned against the banister. There was no room on the steps next to Daniel and the hero of the day.

“I don't think they're stupid,” he began.

“How can someone not know what's going on in their family and not be stupid?”

Jack cringed at that. “Sometimes...” He didn't know how to continue. Finally he asked. “Do you think the Millers don't love their kids?”

“I think they're pretty clueless.”

“Yet, they do care.”

“Maybe,” Daniel muttered. “But they have an odd way of showing it.”

“They have time consuming jobs and they seem very absorbed in what they do. You of all people should know what it's like to be tangled up in work so much...”

“But they have kids. They can't just go their merry way and work on their careers and not care what their kids are doing,” Daniel interrupted hotly. 

“Remember when you found Shifu?” Jack asked, and continued without waiting for the answer. Of course Daniel remembered that. “You were ready to take him home and raise him as your own kid, right?”

“Yes, I was. Apparently Oma had other plans.”

“Would you have given up your work for Shifu? Would you have left the team to raise him?”

There was a pause before Daniel answered. “Shifu would have been a child with special needs. So yes, I probably would have ended up desk-bound at least. I'd have made it work somehow. Aside from the fact that he's way smarter than I am and not really a child at all. Which made me unfit to take care of him anyway. But I didn't know that at the time.”

Jack stared into his dark garden. It had cooled off a bit and the crickets started to sing. “Yes,” he said slowly. “You would have made it work. You were a good man. And someone who had... has his priorities straight. Even if you would've missed going off world and working fifteen to twenty hours a day... I'm sure you'd have found a way to raise that Harseisis child.”

But not everyone was as determined as Daniel. And not everyone was aware how precious family was. People took their kids, partners, or pets for granted. It didn't mean they didn't love them. But you just never imagined the worst and sometimes you only realized what you had when it was gone.

Both he and Daniel had learned that lesson the hard way.

Jack hadn't always known. There was a time when he'd taken his family for granted, too. They were there, they would always be there. Well, at least for a long time to come. That's how it should have been anyway. People – even kids – died. But not his family, which was living safe and sound in the USA, far away from anything that could harm them like war, starvation, and religious madness.

“Jack?” Daniel looked up at him, his face barely visible in the growing evening shadows.

“When Charlie was around ten we went through some rough spots. He started to question me about what I did for the Air Force and why I had to leave so often. He had caught his mom crying once when I was gone on a Special Ops assignment.” Jack hated to remember those things, they still cut deeply. “He knew what I did. That I had to leave to fight the good fight and that I wasn't supposed to talk about it so Sara didn't always know where I was or when I'd be home.” Jack smiled wistfully. “My kid used to think his dad was some hero type and that what I did was cool. But he started to realize how hard it was for his mom sometimes. And he probably just needed me to be there more often, period.” 

“I'm sorry,” Daniel offered.

“I came home from base one evening and brought him a brand new baseball glove. It was a bribe because I knew I had to leave again the next day and didn't know when I'd be back. I expected him to be mad, so I...” Jack shrugged. “Thought I'd give him the glove to smother his disappointment.”

“Special Ops?” 

“Black Ops. Out of the country. Nasty stuff. I went into the yard to give him the glove. He wasn't there. I called for him and suddenly he jumped out from behind a tree with a super soaker, spraying me with water.” Jack had never shared this with anyone, not even after the blood of Sokar had dragged this particular memory out of the dark. “Sara and I were kinda strict about guns. We didn't want him to grow up thinking shooting people was fun. He knew that. He seemed to do this stuff on purpose, maybe to get more attention. I was gone a lot that year. Or maybe he was just testing his boundaries. I guess Svenson could tell me.”

“But it was just a water pistol,” Daniel said. “Surely he understood the difference?”

“Blame it on me being a bit worried about this upcoming mission. I don't know. I tried to get him to play catch with me, but he kept waving that stupid thing in my face and squirting water at me. I told him to put it away and that he knew very well we didn't approve of him playing with guns. He argued and wanted to know why it was okay for me to shoot people for real, but not for him to play with a super soaker. In the end I confiscated the thing. Charlie stomped upstairs to his room and sulked for the rest of the evening. Sara said I over reacted and shouldn't have bawled him out like I had. Especially since I'd be leaving the next day and would be gone for who knew how long.” Jack smiled ruefully. “I knew she was right, but I told her rules are rules and he got all bratty on me... she ordered me to go and talk to him. ”

“Did you?”

“Charlie was already asleep when I went to his room. Or pretended to be. I told him I loved hm and left.” Which he shouldn't have done. He should have woken his kid and talked to him right there and then before the whole incident turned from a minor argument into something huge. 

But Jack hadn’t thought their squabble had been such a big deal at the time.

“When we said good bye the next day he seemed to have calmed down and I promised to do something special with him once I was back. Charlie usually wasn't one to hold a grudge for a long time. He seemed a bit subdued, but not mad anymore. We hugged and I left, thinking everything was all right.

“When I returned home three weeks later Sara showed me the school pictures Charlie brought home. He looked neat. Even his hair behaved for a change, and he had that little smile on his face showing his dimples. He was such a charming little guy.” Jack felt Daniel plaster himself against his side and two short arms hugged him gently around the middle. 

Daniel knew this part of the story.

“While we were looking at the pictures Sara told me Charlie's anger had flared up again a couple of days ago because his friends had started picking on him being the only kid without a soaker. And there had been an incident at school with a boy who had accused Charlie's dad of 'killing people off for the military'. There had been a fight and we were both supposed to go and see the principal. Of course I hadn't been home so Sara went alone. Yet, another thing I missed and couldn't take care off.”

But it had been a sunny day and Jack's mind had been more on taking his family out for ice cream. They'd deal with everything else later, it was nothing more than a mini-crisis. Ice cream first. They always did that when he returned home. O'Neill family tradition - their little welcome home ritual.

He could hear himself ask...

“ _Is Charlie about ready?”..._

_...Sara smiled... that smile would forever be engraved in his memory..._

“ _Yeah he was running around here a few minutes ago.”_

_Her smile and the sun, and the birds twittering in the yard, the loud explosion, a dissonance that didn't belong to the sunny afternoon scenery, the way her smile was freezing on her lips, her eyes widening, his own heart skipping several beats, the echoes of their yells in his ears... the sounds of their footsteps as they were racing up the stairs... the stairs that seemed to never end... before he ripped open the bedroom door..._

...“ Jack,” Daniel whispered. “Oh, Jack, you don't have to...”

Jack put an arm around his boy's shoulders. “I was a blessed man, Daniel. I loved my family more than anything. I would have done everything to protect them. But sometimes you have so many things going on in your life that it's hard to juggle them all and keep the right perspective on things.”

“You didn't have a choice. You had to follow orders,” Daniel said. “You had to go on that mission. If Charlie hadn't pulled the trigger of your gun, you would have made up.” 

“Yeah, we would have.” Jack had dedicated his life to the military; he had to live with the up and downsides, and so did his family. Normally they’d dealt okay with it. Except sometimes life was a bitch and there was nothing one could do about it.

“You think he took the gun because he was still mad at you about the super soaker? Or because he was just curious about how it felt to hold a real gun?” 

“I don't know. Sara said he took the gun because he wanted to annoy me. The way kids sometimes try to get back at you for something you did that wasn't fair in their eyes. He knew I'd be mad if I found out he took the gun. He had no idea it was loaded... Which was my worst screw up.” He hugged Daniel to him more tightly. “Maybe Sara was right, maybe not. He might just have been curious about the whole gun thing. I don't know. But that's the whole point. I had no idea what was going on in my kid's head. Sara was the one raising him, being there for him whenever he was sad, angry, or excited about something. I was the dad who came home and brought gifts.”

“But you weren't always gone. You even coached his little league team.”

“There were months in between when I was stationed in Denver or at Peterson which allowed me to be home every day. When I was there I tried to make up for all the time I was away. But there were still too many weeks I wasn't around when he needed his father. And I missed school plays, swim class graduation, school picnics, even his seventh birthday.”

Jack knew Charlie hadn't been an unhappy child like Al or even Bryan. Both he and Sara had made sure of that. Yet, Jack kept wondering if there was anything he could have done differently to prevent Charlie from taking the gun. If he had tried to talk more to his kid, explain things to him better. About his issues with guns, about the military, about why he had to go away so often.

Would Charlie have understood Jack's complicated job and life better if Jack had told him that through all the times he'd been on assignments across the world to put out some fire, he'd relied on his family waiting for him at home? That they had been his safe haven. That Charlie had been Jack's reason to try and make the world a better place. Would Jack have made a difference by listening to Charlie more often, by taking his little boy worries more seriously, by being there for him after that fight he had at school. Had Jack missed too many opportunities for father-son talks and relied too much on Sara to deal with things?

Maybe.

“Do you think that's what happened to the Millers?” Daniel asked after a while. “That they’re so caught in their way of living and working that they don't notice certain things. Or don't want to notice them?”

“Did you see that woman tonight? How exhausted she was? And Mr. Miller seems to be away more often than not. It's not easy sometimes. Cut them some slack, maybe they'll figure it out.”

“Do you think they're going to call Doctor Svenson?” Daniel asked after a long silence. 

Jack was grateful for the change of subject. The last thing he needed to hear were more words of absolution and Daniel knew that very well. There was no forgiveness for leaving his gun loaded in an unlocked drawer in the first place. And Jack would never know what exactly had compelled his son to play with his gun.

All water under the bridge.

All he could do was try to do a better job with Daniel. And he wasn't always sure he lived up to that either.

“I hope they will. They're not like the Wrexlers, Danny. And both their kids need help to sort out whatever went wrong between them,” he replied to the kid's question. “I think Bry isn't any happier than Al.”

“I guess,” Daniel mumbled. “Bullying Al makes him feel strong. But it's not right.”

“No, it's not.” He steered Daniel to the open door. “C'mon, it's late.”

It was even later by the time Daniel and Flyboy were finally settled. Daniel was asleep, but Flyboy hated the plastic collar that prevented him from gnawing his injured leg. It had taken a while until he found a comfortable position to lie down. He was on his favorite blanket in the living room with bowls of water and dry food in reach. And Daniel of course.

One of Daniel's hands was buried in Flyboy's black fur and the dog tried to crane his neck enough to lick the boy's arm. But the collar made that impossible. He finally gave up and put his head down next to Daniel's with a soft whimper.

“I know, buddy, I know,” Jack crooned, reaching out to stroke the dog's muzzle. “You got lucky though, big guy. Could have been worse.” At least the leg was just bruised, not broken. 

Flyboy snuffled indignantly and his eyes dropped close.

Jack made his round through the house to check doors and windows and switch the alarm system on. When he returned to the living room Flyboy had followed Daniel into slumber land. Only his ears were twitching now and then.

He watched the two of them for a moment, smiling at the sight of Daniel in his sleeping bag on the floor. The kid insisted Flyboy shouldn't have to walk to the kitchen to find his food and water. Neither should he climb into Daniel's bed or hobble up and down the few stairs. So Daniel had carried everything his injured pet might need into the living room.

Well, apparently nothing was too good to make the dog's life more comfortable.

Shaking his head Jack muttered, “Other dogs have dog beds.” They had tried to get Flyboy used to one. Well, Jack had tried. But the stubborn guy had turned up his nose at the one they had bought right after he moved in with them. The only thing Flyboy ever did with his dog bed was chew off the edges and rip the cushion to shreds. There were no dog beds in Egypt so why would he need one here if he could sleep in Daniel's bed at his feet.

Daniel had translated it that way to Jack. And as the linguist of the house he must be right, so Jack had given up rather quickly. It had been enough work to get the dog used to a leash and collar. Among other things. Besides, he had grown up with dogs sleeping in his bed, so it wasn't a big deal.

**III**

Daniel woke up a little disorientated before he remembered why he was on the living room floor and in his sleeping bag. Sitting up he rubbed sleepy eyes and looked for his dog. Flyboy, freed of his collar by Jack, had gotten up and was enjoying his breakfast.

Daniel's heart squeezed painfully in his chest as he watched his dog balancing his weight on three legs as he was eating.

Jack was already up. Daniel could hear him puttering around in the kitchen. And the smell... he scampered out of his sleeping bag and went to investigate.

“Pancakes,” he greeted Jack, his mood rising at the sight. “And it's not even the weekend. Won't we be late for work?” Instantly his worries were back. “Do you think it'll be difficult for Flyboy to go to the mountain with us? He was in so much pain when we returned from the Millers, he didn't even put his foot on the ground. He still doesn't.”

“I'm way ahead of you, kiddo,” Jack said flipping another pancake. “I talked to Hammond. There's no urgent meeting I have to attend until 14:30 today. Talked to Janet and she'll send Cassie over to dog-sit this afternoon.”

“I need to do research on that vampire planet. But I could do that here,” Daniel said slowly. 

“What is it with the vampires anyway?” Jack asked. “Sounds like a lot of mambo jambo to me.”

“It's an interesting planet. The inhabitants can't live in daylight. I think they're probably just allergic to sunlight, but Janet needs blood samples to confirm that. They do have fangs, but they only hunt animals, not other human beings. However, they are very shy. Only a few of them were willing to talk to SG-11 when they'd tried to make first contact. They never saw humans before, it was a bit of shock for them.”

“Do they sleep in sarcs?”

“No, they sleep in the cellars of their houses. And they can't stand garlic, but Janet says they are probably allergic to it as well, which is why they resemble vampires. But their religion is very fascinating with bloody rites and sacrifices.”

“Right,” Jack said. “Ain't it great you don't go off world anymore? I have so much less to worry about now.” 

“Very funny. I'd love to go there and study these people.”

“I bet you would.” Jack turned off the stove and picked up a plate full of pancakes. 

“Can't we eat in the living room? Flyboy might get bored alone. And I don't want him to wander around or nibble on his bandage.“

“I get it, I get it. Bring the syrup and plates.”

“You think I'm fussing too much, don't you?” Daniel followed Jack and put the plates and syrup bottle on the coffee table. 

“No, Daniel, I don't.” But there was a grin tugging at Jack's lips. 

“He's in pain. That's not funny.”

The grin vanished. “No, it's not. And if those people don't answer the phone today, I'll run down their door tonight.”

“They probably don't care anyway,” Daniel said gloomy.

“They'll care once I'm through with them,” Jack growled. “We have laws around here. Dogs have to be on a leash. And that kid isn't fit to handle a large dog like that alone anyway.”

“What are you going to do? Call the police?” Daniel asked doubtful. 

“If they won't listen to what I have to say, I'll call animal control.” After a pause Jack added. “I hope they had their dog treated, too.”

“Al was really impressed by Flyboy's attack,” Daniel said with pride. He took a bite of his rolled pancake and then, when Jack was busy putting syrup on his own, Daniel quickly lowered his hand to the waiting dog. With one quick gulp the pancake was gone. Flyboy licked his fingers clean of syrup and Daniel grabbed another pancake from the stack. 

“I'm not gonna eat anymore of those if there's dog drool on them. Not even if it's hero dog drool,” Jack said disgusted. “At least use your other hand to touch the food, please?”

“Okay. Can he have another one?”

“One more. No syrup.” 

Flyboy gobbled down the other pancake and returned to his blanket. He didn't look happy with his bandaged leg. His fur was gone where Doc. Jenks had to stitch him near his neck and there were several other small swellings on his back where Buster had bitten him. He lay down again giving them long-suffering looks.

“What do you think about a camping trip?” Jack asked out of the blue.

“Where? When? I haven't gone camping for so long! But not until Flyboy's all right again.” 

“Of course not. I was thinking Garden of the Gods. Daniel, there's syrup dripping from your…“

“Oops.” Daniel wiped at the syrup splotch on his t-shirt only to get it all over his fingers. He proceeded to lick them clean, but Jack got cranky and told him to go wash his hands and get dressed.

When Daniel returned dressed in jeans and a fresh tee shirt he’d thought about Jack's suggestion and decided he liked the idea. “Do they allow dogs at Garden of the Gods?”

“Why don't you look it up after breakfast? I'm sure they have a website.”

Daniel hurried with cleaning up the kitchen and then spent the next hour sitting next to Flyboy with his laptop on his knees looking up the Garden of the Gods website.

Later, he helped Jack change Flyboy's bandage and apply the cold pack to the leg. They took turns over the day taking the dog out into the garden to relieve himself. Every time Flyboy hobbled across the lawn Daniel wanted to cry. He had never seen his agile and animated dog so helpless. Jack assured him that tomorrow the leg would already be much better, but Daniel was still angry. He almost wished Flyboy would have been in the house when Buster showed up. But then Buster would probably have caught Al and bit him.

Cassie's old little red beetle turned into their driveway at two and after giving her a list of instructions on how to take care of Flyboy, Daniel had to say good-bye to his four footed friend. He always loved going to work. But today his enthusiasm was muted.

The afternoon turned out to be boring. SG-1 was still off world, Jack was stuck in meetings, and Daniel continued his vampire research and worked on various translations.

When he realized he had stared at his computer screen blankly for ten minutes without reading any of the words scrolling down, he quit and went into the gym instead. Nobody was exercising this afternoon as Daniel did some of the simple warm up techniques Teal'c and Jack had taught him. He spent some time on the treadmill and finally picked up his tiny boxing gloves to pummel and punch his mini punching bag. It was in an extra room together with his small dumb-bells and the gym mat where Teal'c practiced simple throw overs and hand moves with him.

It was thrilling and a bit scary how freeing it felt to tackle the punching bag and imagine it was Mitch or Bryan. Finally Daniel had let out enough steam. He slumped on the mat, staring at the ceiling, measuring his pulse. He waited until it was back to normal before he got up and went over to the water cooler. Settling on the bench next to his locker he sipped his drink.

“Hey, here you are.” Jack, already in his civvies, sat down next to him stretching out his long legs. “Ready to go home?”

Daniel blinked. “Already? What time is it?”

“Seventeen thirty. I'll take some paperwork. And there's a final staff list for Homeworld Security I want you to look at. There's a visit in DC on our schedule list in the near future.”

“To brief the new staff?”

“Yep. You and Jackson have worked out something already, right?”

“We're on it.” Daniel threw his empty cup into the bin and got up. “Let's go home, Jack. Flyboy's waiting. We won't go to Washington until Flyboy's okay? Jack?”

“We're scheduled to go by the end of next month. I'm sure he'll be back to normal long before that.”

Even though he knew the answer before he asked the question, Daniel couldn't help but ask anyway. “Can't we take...”

“Daniel, you know we can't.” Jack sounded as if he was really sorry. “I already talked to Janet. She'll take him home and T will take care of him during the day. We'll only be gone for three days, kiddo.”

Daniel had been looking forward to go to DC. It was such a nice change from his daily routine even though he was a little anxious about having to brief a room full of people he’d never met. But Jack had assured him everyone would be prepared to be listening to a kid genius when the time came. However, Flyboy's injuries put a damper on his enthusiasm.

“Oh, Daniel,” Jack sing-songed. “Smithsonian all day? Tour of the White house? C'mon. You wanted to go.”

“Will we even have time to do all that?” 

“Yeahsureyabetcha. We'll make the time.”

  
  


Cassie was working on a summer project for next school's term in the dining room. Books and folders covered the whole table. Flyboy hobbled over to greet Jack and Daniel as enthusiastically as he could on three legs.

“He slept a whole lot,” Cassie told them. “I was a little worried, but he seems fine otherwise.”

“It's the antibiotics. They make him drowsy. Which is a good thing,” Daniel explained. “Did you put the cold pack on his leg?”

“Yep, no problem there either. Hey, Daniel? Can you help me with my social study presentation project? It's due shortly after school starts and while I know there's still time I want to be done with it. I printed stuff out from the Internet. It's here somewhere.” She flipped through her files and papers. “Oh, great. I left them at home.”

“What's it about?” Daniel slipped onto one of the chairs next to her.

“Slavery and cotton labor in the South. There're two parts we have to do. Writing an essay on how a slave's life used to be and how he could buy himself freedom. And the other parts are statistics and diagrams. And I have to write short essays about the best-known slave rebellions in the USA.” 

“Oh. Three of the best known rebellions here are the revolts by Gabriel Prosser in Virginia in 1800, Denmark Vesey in Charleston, South Carolina in 1822, and Nat Turner in Southampton County, Virginia, in 1831.” 

For the next hour Daniel was engrossed in helping Cass with slave populations, rebellions and other historical dates. Jack brought them lemonade and said his eyes were glazing over just from watching them work.

“You're not very encouraging,” Daniel scolded mildly. “Imagine if I was a real kid and had to go to school. You'd have to help me with homework and assignments then.”

“Me? Even if you were a real kid you'd be way smarter than I am.” Jack laughed and shook his head. “I’ll be working in the garden if someone needs me.”

When Cassie left a while later Daniel put the dreadful collar around Flyboy's neck and went to help Jack with the front flowerbeds. He liked watering the rose bushes. When he’d been big he was allergic to most flowers and weeds. Only Janet's shots had made it possible for him to go off world without sneezing and being red and puffy eyed. Ever since he got littled the allergies were gone for the most part and he enjoyed doing some of the garden work with Jack.

Daniel took a can and filled it at the tap next to the front door while Jack was still in the backyard watering trees and bushes with the hose. The pink and yellow roses were planted in a row next to the paved entryway. A brown butterfly with flaming orange spotted wings hovered over one of the blooms and Daniel watched it as it danced from one flower to another.

“Hey, you!” 

The barked out words made Daniel spin on his heels and he almost lost the can at the sight of the bullish man standing next to Jack's truck. The stranger stared at Daniel with narrowed eyes. His beefy face, pale and mean, reminded Daniel of a bulldog. Daniel instantly had the mental image of Vermon Dursely having jumped out of a Harry Potter book. “My boy said your dog attacked ours.”

Daniel swallowed as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rising.

_This guy can't harm me in anyway_ , he thought.  _He is just a moron. And Jack's just around the corner. Don't let him make you tongue-tied. You fought the Goa'uld, for crying out loud._ Making himself as tall as possible, he said, “Actually, your dog was the invader. He trespassed and he also tried to physically assault a friend of mine. Our dog merely did his job by attacking the attacker first.”

Daniel had googled a little at work. So he continued. “By Colorado Springs law all dogs must remain leashed when on public land. Dogs, cats, livestock, and other animals found off the owner’s property may be considered “strays” and could be impounded. Also, if your dog trespasses on our property we have the right to call animal control to enforce that your dog stays on leash. Is your garden fenced securely by the way? So that the dog can't escape if he's running loose on your property? If it's not, animal control will have a word about that with you, too.”

The Vermon Dursley wannabe looked blankly at him, then blinked and asked. “What?”

Now Daniel spotted Mitch who was half hidden behind his father. Mitch snorted. “He's just geeking out, dad. He has no idea about any laws.”

“I hate to break it to you, kid, but he actually knows what he's talking about. Do you?” Jack, hose still in hand, appeared on the scene. “You must be Mitch's dad. I'm Colonel Jack O'Neill, that's Daniel. If you want to apologize for your dog's trespassing I'm ready to discuss veterinarian bills and leash laws. Otherwise...” 

“I'm gonna sue you, O'Neill,” Dursley guy bellowed. “My dog has bites all over his back!”

“I don't think so,” Jack drawled. “Lemme get this straight so even you understand it. Your dog, no leash, attacks kid in my garden. My dog attacks your dog because he felt threatened.”

“And can you prove that?” Mitch's dad's eyes narrowed even more if that was possible. 

“Oh, puh-lease.” Jack rolled his eyes. “Listen. Just let me know if your dog is vaccinated against rabies and get outta here. You'll be hearing from animal control.”

In the meantime Mitch had moved in front of Daniel, lazily chewing gum. He was already a miniature version of his dad. Bulky, with small blue eyes in his chubby face. He was also very big, almost a head taller than Daniel and more than double in width. “Eh, four eyes,” Mitch sneered. “My dog would have made hamburger of yours.”

For a split second Daniel saw himself pouring the watering can out over Mitch's head. It was so tempting. But he grabbed the can handle more tightly and returned the boy's glare. “Leave Al alone. You and your friends stay away from him.”

“Or wha-aht,” Mitch snarled. He balled his hands to fists and Daniel expected to be pushed into the flowerbed. But apparently Mitch wasn't all that brave with adult audience.

“Try bullying someone your own size for a change. Al's not alone anymore and we won't let you push us around.”

“Right. I'm so scared, tiny!” 

“You should be. I don't care how big or strong you think you are. You're still just a snotty little kid. I can take you on anytime. Just try me.” 

“Hey, watch it, four eyes!” But he must have seen something in Daniel's eyes because he took a step back. 

With a haughty smile Daniel turned and started watering the roses as if nothing had happened. It felt so good to tell this brat off. Should Mitch try and attack him, he wouldn't know what was coming before he hit the dirt.

But Mitch-baby didn't punch or push him and when Daniel casually looked back over his shoulder, the other kid stood in the middle of the driveway, chewing on his gum and looking as if he tried to process the fact that a skinny geeky kid had just told him to get lost or else.

Daniel knew he probably had to face Mitch and Bryan at one point. But he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

He hadn't caught the conversation between Jack and Dursley guy, but a moment later Mitch was grabbed by his tee shirt and dragged away, his father muttering under his breath; something about military scum and threatening decent citizens and their harmless pets.

“Oy,” Jack said next to him. And after a pause, “You can stop watering that rose now, Daniel. I think you drowned it.”

“Oh!” He hadn't realized he was pouring out all the water over one bush. “Sorry.”

Jack patted his back. “Did the brat bother you?”

“No. He wanted to look at the beautiful flowers,” Daniel deadpanned. “He liked the yellow ones best.” 

Jack snorted. “Nice kid. His dad wanted to make sure Flyboy is fine and of course he'll pay the vet bill and never let his dog leave the house without a leash again.”

“Some people are really nice, aren't they?” Daniel watched as another butterfly made its journey through the roses. 

“I'm moved to tears,” Jack said, disgust lacing his voice. “That guy is the cliche of scum.”

“Do you think the animal control officers visiting them will change his attitude?” 

“Actually, he told me Buster is vaccinated. After a bit of arm twisting he also said he'd make sure his kid won't keep running around with the dog loose anymore. He doesn't want trouble with the law.” Jack smirked. “I said I'd keep an eye on it.”

“You did the big bad colonel act,” Daniel said with a grim smile.

Jack raised his eyebrows. “Sometimes rank has its privileges. In this case it wasn't an act. And he better believes it.” He sighed in mock despair. “Too bad it never works on you, Wretch.”

“You know, one of these days you could think up a better nickname for me?” Daniel muttered as they continued to water the flowerbeds together.

“Munchkin,” Jack suggested. “Sport? Rugrat? Brat? … Oh, I know... plant boy? Hey, hey, HEY!” He jumped backwards as Daniel attacked him with his can, splashing cold water at him. He took a leap over the rose beds and jogged into the backyard, calling back over his shoulder. “You wait till I get my hands on the hose, plant boy!”

“Oh no, you don't!” Daniel stormed after Jack, waving his can over his head showering everything with droplets of water. “Jaaaaaaaack! Don't you dare! It's not fair to attack little kids with water hoses!”

But when he rounded the house Jack was already aiming and firing. After a moment of spluttering and yelling, Daniel ducked his head, plowed through the cold spray of water, and tackled his supposed-to-be-grown-up guardian with all his might, both of them getting soaked as they went down together with fits of giggles, screams and laughter.

And for the time being all of Daniel's demons were chased away in the light of a warm summer evening.

**Epilogue**

“Helmet sitting okay?” Jack rapped his knuckles at Daniel's helmet covered head. 

“Check.”

“Knee pads?”

“Check.”

“Phone?”

“Check.”

“Watch?”

“Check.”

Jack rounded the shiny red bike sparkling in the summer sun. He tapped the wheels to make sure there was enough air in them, squeezed the horn to see if it worked properly. The horn honked obediently. The playing cards Daniel had gotten for his birthday were attached to the wheel spokes with tiny clothespins, making sure the kid would make enough noise to give people a heart attack when he gained speed. Jack used to have cards like that on his bike. He’d imagined escaping from gunfire when he rode down the street like a daredevil.

He bent down to fiddle with the cards to make sure they were properly attached.

This inspection wasn't necessary at all. They had tried out Daniel's bike yesterday when they'd gone on their very first ride together. Everything worked smoothly and all the kid's worries about not being able to ride a bike anymore, because it had been so long since he'd done it the last time, had been put to rest.

Jack tweaked the pennon, red as the bike, and resisted the urge to check the light. He knew the light worked. And besides, Daniel would be back home way before he'd need it.

“Al's going to be here in a minute so I'm making it short. Let's go through this one more time,” he said.

“Ja-ack.” Daniel gave him a huge, long-suffering sigh.

“Da-ni-el.” Jack gave him the eyebrow.

“We've been through this endlessly!”

“Humor me.” 

“Right. I won't go anywhere near the highway, I won't leave the area we've mapped out for me to ride my bike in. I won't be home late – with a tolerance level of ten minutes – I'll have my phone with me at all times, if there's any problem I'll call... Jack? What if a truck runs me over and I can't call you?” 

“Do you want to put your bike back into the garage and spend the day in the house rethinking your attitude about this?” Jack had made it perfectly clear he would treat Daniel exactly like the nine year old he appeared to be should he abuse his newly gained freedom by getting into self-caused trouble or not minding the curfew. 

Meaning the bike would be locked away and Daniel would be grounded for the minimum time of one weekend.

Their eyes met for a brief moment until Daniel sighed again and blushed. “Uh... sorry? It's just... Jack, I know all the rules. We sealed and signed them.”

He scrubbed a hand through his graying hair and exhaled a long breath. Daniel was right. They had made up the rules together, signed them, shook hands, and put them on the fridge. “Just be careful, okay?”

“I'll be careful,” Daniel said, then wrapped his arms around Jack's middle and hugged him. “I promise.”

“You'll be back at six,” Jack said gruffly. “Don't forget it.”

Daniel nodded and pulled back. “There's Al!”

Al came riding down the driveway, stopped in front of them and gave Daniel's bike an impressed once over. “Looks way cool,” he stated. “Like new! You even put the pennon on.”

“It was a gift from Murray. I guess it looks okay there.”

“I have one too, see? A blue one.” Al pointed back at his own pennon. Then he cocked his head. “What's with the cards?”

Daniel looked down his nose at the playing cards. “Ah,” he stuttered, “uh, they're kind of... just...“

“Decoration,” Jack jumped in. “If you go real fast they'll flap and crackle like pistol shots.”

Daniel had wanted the cards because he remembered being impressed when his foster brother used to ride his bike. He had told Jack he wanted to try it.

“That's neat,” Al said. “I want to see that. Are you ready to go?”

“Sure. Bye Jack.” Daniel grabbed the handles of his bike.

“Hey, guys, one more thing!” Jack whisked the camera from his pocket.

“Jaack!” Daniel groaned. “Do you have to?”

Jack paused, turned the silver Panasonic over in his hands, then squinted at his pint-sized friend. “Please? Just this once?”

“What's going on?” Al asked. “Is this for some memory photo album? My mom used to do that all time when we were little. Taking pictures of us, I mean. Now she doesn't have time to do it anymore.” He paused and glanced at Jack. “But she's taking a day off next week. So we can go see that shr... that Doctor of yours. Dad's not happy, but mom said it's important.”

“You blaming me for that, eh?” Jack tried to look sheepish.

Al shrugged. “Not really, sir. Mom says if we all go it might help. Bryan and dad are mad, but we're still going.” He pushed at his helmet with one hand to adjust it. “Mom's looking for another daycare center for me to stay at. And maybe I'll switch school after summer, too.”

“That's great,” Daniel said. “You won't have to spend time with Bryan there then.”

“There'll be others...” Al trailed off, gazing at his feet. 

Oy. Jack patted the skinny boy's shoulder. “Stay positive. Go with the flow, try giving 'em a chance to get to know ya?”

Al shuffled his feet. “I'm no good with other kids. They don't understand me, I don't understand them.”

“Neither am I,” Daniel said. “But maybe you'll learn? If you give it a try?” 

“There you go.” Jack quickly held up his camera again. “So? Ready to give me some memories?”

Daniel threw up his hands in surrender and dragged his bike over to Al so the two kids were next to each other.

“Perfect!” Jack grinned. “Say cheese!” 

A moment later they took off and Jack gazed at their pennons flapping in the wind as they took a sharp turn and left the driveway to boldly go where no one has gone before.

Or at least where no LD had gone before.

Jack squinted at his watch.

Three hours till six.

He could do this.

He was about to go into the house to find something to occupy himself with when the sounds of a car pulling into his driveway made him look back over his shoulder to see an orange jeep coming to a halt behind Jack's truck. Its occupant, hair tousled from driving in an open car, pulled off his sunshades and lifted a brown paper bag from the passenger's seat. “I brought donuts.”

“What'cha doing here?” Jack jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. 

“Daniel told me today's the big day and I thought...” Jackson shrugged and left his jeep, slamming the door shut behind himself. Apparently the weather on P3-X37 had been sunny, too. The man was sporting a nice tan and a slight sunburn on his nose. He was dressed in Khakis and a light blue tee. 

“You just missed him.” Jack cocked his head. “Shouldn't you spend your precious downtime with Highlander guy?”

A frown answered him, followed by a quick nod. “Actually, you're right. I haven't seen Fergus since before we went on that mission. I should go see him right now.” Jackson shoved the bag of donuts against Jack's chest. “Enjoy. I'm out of here.”

Aw, crap. Rooted to the spot, bag of donuts in his arm, he watched as adult Daniel clambered back into his jeep and turned the key.

Oh, for... “Hey!” Jack crossed the distance to the jeep in a flash, bent over, and quickly clasped his hand over Jackson's still holding the key. A gentle tug and the key slipped out of the ignition. Letting go of Jackson's hand, Jack offered, “You brought the donuts, you might as well stay and have some.”

Big Daniel looked thoughtful. “Are you sure? Because I know Fergus  _will_ be happy to see me at least.” 

“So am I,” Jack said, the words leaving his mouth before he could stop himself. Bad slip, O'Neill, bad slip. “You brought donuts after all.”

There was a quick smile passing over the younger man's face when Jack stepped back to give him space as he left his jeep again. “I thought about bringing beer. But I didn't think you should drink just in case you'll have to go and rescue Daniel from some mishap.”

“Very funny,” Jack growled. “Not.”

They went into the house where Big Daniel was greeted enthusiastically by the currently three-legged dog. Jackson sat on the couch and worriedly examined Flyboy. Of course Daniel had told him the whole story this morning over breakfast at the commissary, but Jackson still looked worried.

“He'll be fine. Gets spoiled rotten by the kid.” Jack joined him and freed the dog from his collar. 

When Jackson pulled the donut box from the bag and placed it open on the coffee table Flyboy quickly started to investigate, trying to shove his nose into the box. Jack shooed him away, shouting, “Aht! Get off!”

Indignantly Flyboy retreated to the fireplace, turned his back on them, and lay down on his blanket.

Jackson's eyes followed the animal. “He got into dog fights in Egypt a couple of times. We were lucky though, never needed a vet. Well, there wasn't a vet at the place I lived anyway.”

Jack sometimes forgot that Flyboy was rightfully Jackson's dog. He only lived with them because Jack and LD were home more frequently and having the black beast around did worlds of wonders for the kid. Should Jackson decide to take Flyboy with him once Daniel was big again, Jack would miss the mutt.

Among other things.

“I'm sorry I wasn't here to help with the bike. Was looking forward to it,” Jackson said after a moment.

“'s not your fault the mission was extended.”

“Uh, yeah, it was, actually. I asked for more time. You should have seen the ruins, Jack, they were fascinating. I'd probably need a year to explore everything in there. SG-6 will have all that fun, our job is done,” he said a bit on the wistful side. 

Jack suppressed a smile. Some things never changed. “How many more days didya wheedle out of Carter?”

“Two.” Jackson frowned. “I didn't _wheedle_ them out of her, Jack. I asked nicely and she got the okay from Hammond.” 

“She's spoiling you,” he groused, but couldn't smother the grin at Jackson's sour face. “Hey, I'm just kidding.”

“Sam is a good CO,” Jackson muttered. “Much less cranky and bossy than others I know.”

“Miss me yet?” Jack teased. He picked a chocolate frosted donut and took a bite.

“Not at all.” 

“Good. Coffee?” 

They had coffee and another donut before Jack realized he hadn't looked at his watch a lot. Once or twice, no more. Maybe he was getting used to Daniel going out on his own much faster than he expected.

“He'll be fine. It'll get easier to let him go, too,” Jackson said out of the blue.

“Since when are you the expert in parenting 101?” Jack raised his eyebrows.

“I'm not. But I guess it has to be that way. And Daniel can take care of himself – you know that. He's me after all.”

“That's what worries me,” Jack muttered. 

“You can't always be there and watch his back. I know the fact that he's not really just nine year old is a blessing and a curse, but if he has to stay like this for another year or so he should be able to enjoy it as much as possible. And he should make his own choices about what he wants to try. Within reasons.”

_Jack, what if I got run over by a truck and can't call you?_ Jack gazed at the now sleeping dog. He could deal with Daniel getting into trouble, not minding the curfew or straying into areas he wasn't supposed to go. But what if he DID get run over by a truck? What if he got snatched away by the NID? Sure he had the locator chip now, but still... 

He knew he had to let Daniel do this. For both their sakes. Had to let Daniel go out there, exploring his second childhood. Then why did this feel like watching him going through the gate on his own, without backup? Daniel had done more dangerous things in his time as a kid. Egypt came to mind, and Antarctica. Yet, Jack had been with him there to protect him. When it came down to it, Jack was aware - even without Svenson's gentle prodding – this was his very own issue, his personal demon lurking in the back of his mind like a shadow from the past - not Daniel’s.

Jackson shook his head. “Look, I'm aware you know all this and I don't need to lecture you. I'm sorry.”

Jack felt his mouth twitch into something close to a smile. “Thanks for the donuts, Daniel.”

“Anytime.” 

Pearls of laughter and pieces of excited chatter coming from the backyard announced the arrival of two kids who'd probably empty the donut box in no time.


End file.
